When the Sky Falls
by Rosabell
Summary: Sion captured the Exile at the Secret Tomb on Korriban. Months later, Atton and the crew find her again, but she has become both physically and emotionally unwell. How can one defeat the Sith if she is terrified of them? LSF Exile
1. Prologue

When the Sky Falls

Prologue

"I don't know why you keep that old hag around," Mira grumbled as they did the dishes together, "She gives me the creeps and isn't polite either."

"I hear the same thing from Atton about you."

"Yeah? Well that's different, see, because I don't creep _everyone _out, and since when do you listen to Atton?"

"I listen to him," Yiding replied quietly.

"Force save us all," The bounty hunter muttered.

"He has good instincts, and he's smarter than he looks." The Exile turned off the water.

"And that witch?"

Yiding looked at her. "She needs me and I need her."

"See that's what I don't understand. How in the galaxy do you need her? Sure she mutters some mumbo-jumbo about the Force, but you do realize you're training _Mical _yourself, right?"

Yiding sighed. "I don't know everything Mira."

"You think she does?"

"She knows more than me."

"Huh. Yeah, right. She knows more about the Dark Side than you."

"Maybe," The Exile agreed, "But more is more."

The red-head huffed, wiping her hands dry on a rag. "Suit yourself. Just tossing in my two credits."

Yiding watched her leave, sighing again. They had all been getting on each other's nerves lately. Even Mical was showing signs of frustration. It was the latest destination, to Korriban in hopes of finding the last Jedi Master, Lonna Vash. Everyone knew Korriban was a place saturated with the Dark Side, from centuries upon centuries of Dark Force-users among its native population of Sith. It was said that the planet had long since been empty of life, its inhabitants either dead or long gone, but who knew what kind of entities such a place in the galaxy would attract, not to mention the echoes of the past that lingered on its landscape.

It was tiring, for Yiding too. She did not want to be part of this mess to begin with. Listless and lonely as her exile had been, it had been liberating, in a way. She was free of responsibility, free of obligation, and because of that she had a choice—to do good without worrying about how this may set precedents or inconvenience the rest of the Order. She had been deeply hurt, both by the terrible deaths on Malachor V and the cold rejection of the only family she had ever known, but her sojourn on the outskirts of the galaxy had enabled her to find an identity of sorts, one that was not molded to the code of the Jedi. She was free to do what she pleased, and there was a sense of satisfaction in knowing that she did good deeds without being forced to. Now there was so much pressure, she had to maintain the peace between all her companions, and it seemed she was always tailoring to other people's needs and desires and personality quirks.

_Don't start feeling sorry for yourself now,_ Yiding caught herself, _Self-pity is annoying in anyone and never useful in the end._ She shook her head to clear her thoughts and went to the cockpit.

For a group of people who were always at each other, everyone seemed keen on staying away from everyone else. Atton was always in the pilot's chair, Bao-Dur was always at his work bench, Mical was always at the med bay and Kreia and Visas were always meditating. It was really Brianna and Mira who went around the Ebon Hawk, Brianna in search of something resembling the Telos Academy she came from, Mira restless because she was use to life on the move. T3 moved back and forth, of course, but most of the time everyone ignored the droid, interspersed only infrequently by annoyed curses from Atton and equally exasperated comments from Kreia.

A fine thing, for them to keep insulting the one companion Yiding really had for the past decade.

"Something up?" Atton looked back to face her. He was playing pazaak on the dashboard, a glass of water balanced near the cards.

"Just checking in," The young woman replied, reading the numbers. "Everyone is getting a bit restless. The sooner we reach Korriban the sooner we can get away from it."

"Hm! Why don't you try asking nicely, maybe that will get this ship moving faster through hyperspace."

_No need to be sarcastic,_ Yiding bit back the words, wounded. Atton had turned around to continue his game, dismissing her presence. Sometimes the man was unnecessarily acerbic. She wondered what he was trying to prove. There were so many things she did not understand about him, not the least of which was what exactly he had been doing on Nar Shaddaa before meeting her.

She released another sigh, unaware of the attention this drew from the pilot, and turned around to head out. In the mess hall, Brianna turned as she entered.

"Exile…" The Echani sister began awkwardly, "Um…Mical and I were looking for you. We're ready to train if you are."

Yiding smiled a genuine smile. She doubted Jedi padawans were normally so eager to learn. She remembered countless instances of wanting to sleep in late, wanting to extend lunch just a bit longer, immerse herself in a break, talk with her fellow Jedi, only to be called to a lesson by some master and being scolded if she was late. It was a pleasant experience, training Brianna and Mical. At length, Mira would probably join in—the bounty hunter had been eyeing them a bit longingly the past few days, and she knew that Bao-Dur was considering the same.

"Get Visas," She told the handmaiden, "We'll begin once she joins us."

* * *

><p>Korriban was an ugly planet, dry and devoid of life. What remained on its surface was dry and shriveled, coarse from being rubbed with sand and dusty from the hot air. It was difficult to imagine what could have lived here, but Yiding could believe that anything that did was strong and tough, enough to withstand the hostility of the place. Small wonder that the Sith culture was so immersed in the Dark Side. Kill or be killed, conquer or be conquered. Survival of the fittest at its most ruthless.<p>

"I can understand if you want to stay on the Hawk," She told her companions, "Kreia will be on board though, so you'll have to put up with her, but she's probably still better company than the rest of this place, plus there's air-conditioning."

There was a silence.

"Really?" Atton exclaimed. "You're all scared of a little sun? Come on!" He hooked his blaster onto his hoister. "I need to get off this dump."

It was times like this when Yiding could not decide if he was coming because he wanted to help or for some other selfish reason. The former would seem likely, except Atton did not seem to like her all that much, constantly brushing off her attempts to connect with him. The man was an enigma.

"I'll come," Said the ever-faithful Mical, "You need someone who can heal."

"Oh for the love of—_fine,_" Atton glowered at the blonde. "Really? It had to be you."

Sensing unease in everyone else, Yiding said gently, "It's alright. I think we should keep the numbers small. As we are, there's no advantage in bringing any more people, and I don't want to draw too much attention with a large crowd. The rest of you stay put on this ship."

Atton and Mical were not good companions to bring together, as Yiding had learned many times before. Mical exemplified a model Jedi, ignoring all of the other's taunts, but this only seemed to fuel Atton even more. Telling him to keep quiet did not help, because he would only start again minutes later.

"How are you coping with the feeling of the Dark Side, blondie? Not going dark on us, are you? Because if you do, I'll shoot you right in the gut. Hurts more that way, I hear, and you die slow and painful."

_If anyone is going dark, it is probably you,_ Yiding thought ruefully, wondering why he was the one who volunteered to come with her. Granted, these comments were not too unusual for Atton when dealing with Mical, but she could not help but feel, surrounded as they were by the grand tombs of ancient Sith Lords, that the man was being cruel. It was frightening to walk through this place as it was, let alone hear threats of murder from someone who looked like he meant them.

Unfortunately, she could not say this without sounding like a coward, and Atton already seemed to dislike her a lot already. She did not want to drive him away just because she was afraid.

They came upon dried skeletons baking in the sand, the blackened, withered flesh of the faces cooked into the skulls by the sun. Yiding stopped, and the men paused momentarily in their banter to consider the corpses on the ground. There were some of other species, but many were human, and she could see, as she stared into the empty eye sockets, a time long ago when these bodies had been alive. They had all started off young and innocent, but something corrupted them. Perhaps the Light abandoned them, the harshness of survival driving them to seek the power of the Dark Side. Either way, their alliance led them to their doom, and there was something awful about it, that these individuals now lay forgotten and unwept in a barren land no one cared to visit.

"Hey," Atton's voice rang to her like a slap in the face, "You done staring at bones over there? I'm under the impression that we kind of have things to do here, you know. You could have told us that you were here for sight-seeing."

"Atton," Mical chided.

"What?" Atton snapped, seizing the opportunity to lash at the other man, "I know you totally enjoy this stroll through this Force-forsaken planet, but I can think of a ton of other places I'd rather be. What the hell are we supposed to do while she's standing there staring at mummified bodies, eh?"

Yiding sighed. "I'm sorry. Let's move on."

She slowed several times to consider the ancient tombs around her, wondering at their grandeur. She doubted the Sith Lords built these tombs themselves; they seemed either determined to live past their time or killed unexpectedly and violently. Someone else, their students, perhaps, must have erected these tall structures for the ancient lords, and she had to marvel at how much respect and awe these individuals had garnered in their time to inspire such an act of faithfulness from beings who were normally only out for themselves. Atton's sharp words kept her moving, however, and they passed over the hot sands to come upon a dark cave.

"Hell," Atton wiped the sweat off his forehead, "All this loitering about in the sun! And what for, eh? You bloody schutta." He ducked inside the shadow of the cave's mouth. Mical and Yiding hesitated, finding the cave dark and ominous, but the sun was high in the sky and it was too hot to remain in the clear.

"I don't like this place," Mical murmured, "We don't know where this cave leads."

"Who said we're going in, you idiot?" Atton snapped, "We're just here to get out of the sun for a while."

Yiding lit her lightsaber. The cave was dark but dry, and along the walls she could see hints of bare white bone. There was a strange feeling in the air, and a tingle of a familiar Force signature…

"Vash," She murmured."

"What?"

"Master Vash was here," Yiding frowned. "I sense it. She passed through here."

"Oh for crying out loud! Are you serious?"

"I suppose there is nothing to it except to follow the trail," Mical said quietly.

"Dead bodies," Atton remarked flatly, "Why is it that our group has such a fascination with dead bodies? You tend to stay _away _from places with corpses for Force's sake…"

Yiding finally had enough. "Atton, you don't have to come if you don't want to."

"And leave you with blondie here? I have absolutely no qualms about flying the Ebon Hawk off and leaving you two to stare at bones all you damn please, but that old crone of yours is on board and she's going to use her pointy nails to claw out my guts, I know it."

Yiding sighed. She had been doing that a lot lately, but she really was at a loss._ Why are you still here, Atton?_ She had offered, many times, for him to leave, to drop off at Nar Shaddaa or Dantooine or Telos. He was so insistent that he did not care to stay, and yet he never chose to leave. She did not know what to make of him.

"Let's just go," She stated wearily, using her lightsaber to illuminate the way. The two men followed, Mical taking his own weapon out just in case and Atton keeping his blaster in hand.

"Freaking Jedi," He muttered, "Why would you go around in caves? What, did she expect this hole to spew out secrets of the Force or something?"

"Incoming," Yiding warned, sensing the approach of many life-forms. "Get ready."

There were a lot of them, loud, shrieking, hissing things, their wings practically weapons in of themselves, but with a few elegant strokes of the blade, the Jedi Exile cut through all of the creatures. Atton fired one blaster bolt at a latecomer and there were piles of animal corpses at their feet.

"Sweet," Said Atton, blowing at his blaster, and then sneered at Mical, who only had time to turn on his lightsaber while Yiding had disposed of the wyrms. "Thanks for all the _help,_ blondie."

Mical emitted a sigh not unlike Yiding's earlier.

"There's more," Yiding told them, "My lightsaber would draw their attention, but there's no help for it. It's pitch black in here."

There were different cave creatures, and it was surprising given how barren the rest of the planet was. In the caves, out of the harshness of the sun, moss and other vegetation grew, requiring no light at all to grow. As they went deeper inside, it grew more humid, and they could hear the trickle of water once in a while. The smell also grew more potent, as there was more decomposition occurring inside the caves than outside. Bodies of dead things littered the floors, different cadavers that were torn to pieces by the beasts that lived here and left to rot, some of sentients, past Sith who met their end. Mical's lightsaber joined hers in adding to the piles.

"How many of these things _are _there?" Atton hooked his blaster over his shoulder. "Schuttas…"

Yiding brushed her hair out of her eyes. She could still sense the trail. "There," She pointed into the darkness beyond. "I think there's a bridge there…"

She was tight as a bowstring at this point. The darkness made her anxious, even with the Force to guide her, and some part of her still wanted to trust her physical senses rather than the Force. For much of her life, she had been a Jedi, but the last ten years seemed to completely annul the first fifteen.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Atton suddenly muttered.

Yiding gritted her teeth. She hated when Atton said that. He was usually right. "Let's watch ourselves, then."

The Sith assassin surprised her, shimmering from his cloak with the help of the shadows of the cave. He necked her on the elbow where a shyrack wyrm had clawed open the sleeve of her robe. In an instant, Yiding cleaved at him, but he dodged as another Sith nearly blindsided her. Mical's lightsaber buzzed into existence and Atton fired a bolt at the first assassin, killing him instantly. She sliced the second in half and dove to help Mical, who was holding his own against three other Sith further down the bridge. Atton took out one and she and Mical finished off the last two, but more Sith emerged from the other side of the bridge.

"Damn it!" Atton yelled, "What the _Sith _was Lonna Vash doing here? Why didn't she finish them off?"

Yiding ignored him, following the directions of the Force and the flow of its currents. She had always been good, and her bladework was quick, her footwork sure. Even in the dark, with the blazing light of her lightsaber flashing disorientingly as she spun, the Sith assassins were no match. They crossed the bridge leaving smoking bodies in their wake and met the next tide of them with the same ferocity as the first.

"Force," Atton swore, "How the hell did they see in here? Were they just lying around waiting for us?"

Lonna Vash's Force signature moved to the left, but it did bring to mind Atton's earlier question. If the Jedi Master was here, what became of her? Did she encounter the Sith as well, or were they only here after she passed through?

"Exile," Mical called, noting her silence.

Without answering, Yiding moved ahead. The two fell behind, as usual, though for once Atton chose to keep his mouth shut. The air grew more and more choked, and she was dimly aware of the Dark Side growing more and more powerful here.

"Uh, I don't think you should go in there," Atton remarked, "This _really _does not seem like the place we want to go to, wherever this…is…"

Vash's signature lead to a gate shut with a pair of doors. The barrier did much to seal away the Dark Side, Yiding could tell. She knew this did not bode well for what it was like within.

"You two should keep away," She said, as she contemplated the doors. The texture looked eerie in the light of her lightsaber.

"Come again?" Atton barked.

"I'll go in alone," She clarified, "The Dark Side is strong here. You two…might not be able to withstand it."

"And you can?" The scoundrel snorted.

"I've faced the Dark Side before," Said the Exile, images of memories she had long tried to put behind her swirling into her vision. Revan and Malak, Mandalorians, the soldiers of the Republic, fellow Jedi succumbing to their rage and hate in those weak moments of desperation when it seemed nothing else would suffice. Would the Dark Side be so tempting if the Light had been less fickle? She could not blame those who supposedly fell, precisely because she, too, knew what it was like to feel abandoned by the good forces of the galaxy. Always getting tested, often without consent, while by contrast Dark Side never tested. It welcomed all who welcomed it. "I can handle whatever lies within, but the same cannot be said for the two of you. I would rather you two not face it when you don't have to. There will be opportunities enough in your lifetime to examine your character, but I'd rather not have that happen here."

Mical did not argue, but then Mical never argued—he was the idolizing student, the boy who had looked up to her as a youngling back in the days when they had both been much more innocent. Ten years, twelve years, and he has become a man, but this part of him never appeared to have grown. Sometimes Yiding wished he would question her, just to prove he had a mind of his own and agreed with her because he chose to, but certain things one cannot expect from others, and she was usually grateful that he was not making things difficult for her, unlike some of her other companions.

Atton looked like he would like to argue, but something stopped him. He scowled at her instead, lifting his blaster to his shoulder.

"Well, if you're so sure about it," He said unhappily, "If you find this Lonna Vash, give her a sound whacking for me. Blasted animals and caves…crazy Jedi woman."

Yiding pushed open the doors. "Why don't you head back to the Ebon Hawk," She murmured, "Since you don't like caves. I can find my way back to the ship from here."

"Schuttas," Atton suddenly grabbed her by the arm as a wave of Dark Side energy billowed out from the gaps between the doors. "Look, be…be careful, alright?" He actually seemed concerned.

Yiding nodded solemnly. "You too," She said to him, "We might not have gotten all the creatures in the cave." She nodded once to Mical as well, before turning around and passing through the gates.

It was the last time she saw them as she was.


	2. Chapter 1

When the Sky Falls

Chapter 1

Ironically, she saved herself.

They found her lying in the snow on an icy moon, the sheer cold turning her lips blue and cheeks pale. She was unconscious, blood frozen along her scalp, one arm fractured in multiple places and dislocated at the shoulder, the opposite leg also broken and dislocated at the hip. Her ribs were broken and stabbed toward her lungs and heart, and she was naked, her emaciated body covered with brutal welts and burns, as if someone had repeatedly sliced at her with a lightsaber. Blood caked the insides of her thighs and along her buttocks, almost brown like dirt.

It had been T3 who had found her, the little droid relying on means sentients could not share. She was curled up a good mile away from the Sith stronghold, and it was anyone's guess how she got there and when. Any one of the women could have picked her up, but they commed the men to help move her without injuring her further. It was likely that point was moot, however. There had been no way to maneuver her without jarring one of her wounds or fractures. Time had been of essence too, because at any point the Sith could discover them, and the Ebon Hawk was docked far enough away that any delay would lessen her chances of survival.

The others watched as Mical barked orders to an unusually complaint Kreia, the only member of the crew who was level-headed enough to assist him without panicking. T3 rolled back and forth to bring supplies, chirping and tweeting in worry. Mira, Visas, and Brianna held each other tightly as they watched him set her bones, dress her welts and burns with cloth soaked in kolto, inject medicine into her heart to start pumping, attach a breathing apparatus, feed drips of solution for dehydration, and heated packs to warm her. "Don't die on me, Exile," The man cried at one point, scrambling at his many equipment because he could not press her broken chest to reboot her heart. "Sith!"

She had died, had been dead, at least, when they brought her in, but the cold that took her also served to preserve her, and she was regaining the faint red color of flowing blood as Mical examined her between her legs, his face stricken at the sight. Kreia was professional all throughout, except when she broke off to smooth the Exile's hair, her wrinkled lips thinning with displeasure and disgust.

"She's strong," Bao-Dur said, as the doctor finally finished and covered the frail form with a thick blanket, "She'll pull through. It takes more than a couple of Sith to down someone like the General."

"Would you please shut up," Atton hissed, "You don't know anything about what Sith do with their prisoners."

"And you do?" Mira challenged, eyes glassy with tears.

Atton remained silent. Next to him, Mandalore watched and waited in grim silence.

Mical came out with Kreia.

"She's stable," He announced, intoning the sentence with a touch of irony, "I have no idea when she'll wake up, but her head injury is not severe. There are…other ways to go into a coma though." He rubbed his face, exhausted after hours upon hours of work. "Right now the problem really is that she's been frozen once, and then thawed really quickly. I've given her some drugs to combat any complications from that, but she's also been starved and dehydrated, and all of that…her recovery will be very slow. She has a lot of injuries."

Atton thought Mical sounded like an imbecile and told him so. "No kidding, 'she has a lot of injuries'. What, I thought she only had a _few _injuries. Just a scratch here and there, a bruise and a broken fingernail. Nice going, _Mical._"

Like every other time, Mical did not rise to the bait. They had both failed the Exile; Kreia spared no effort to remind them of this. They had left her at the caves, at her bidding, yes, but against their better judgment, and allowed her to face the darkness of the tomb on her own after slaying their way through a line of Sith assassins. _You didn't think there were more waiting behind those doors? You allowed her to go in alone? _

She was not ready to face Darth Sion, and this ill-turn proved costly for them all.

"She is here now," Said Visas, "That is all that matters for now. She will heal because it is the only thing she can do. The Force still has plans for her, and she will follow them through."

"I am really sick of your Force-gibberish," Atton huffed. "The Force came in real handy for her when she was in the hands of that corpse."

They expected Kreia to say something, but for once the old woman kept her peace. She was blind, but she seemed to regard the young woman in the medbay, and what part of her face was exposed under her hood was as close to grieving as any of them had ever seen.

* * *

><p><em>You will know pain as I do, Exile. It is the only way you can stand beside me.<em>

Yiding shuddered. Pain did run through her, through the marrow of her bones and along every agonized nerve. She was sick with it, and the Force provided no release, no matter how she reached to it for strength. Fingers dug into her thighs and hot breath puffed over her face._ Open wide, Exile…_maniacal laughter followed as she felt herself being impaled.

_No no no no no no no leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone…!_

"Whoa!"

The sound was jarring in its reality, and Yiding's eyes shot open as she jerked. Her gasp of pain choked back as her ribs flared, white hot, and something inside her tugged and stabbed like hundreds of thin, sharp needles. Unable to bear it, she released a soft cry. They liked it when she screamed, so she tried not to, but it was so hard—

"Easy, sweetie," Hands pressed her upper arms, and at the contact Yiding screeched and thrashed. One of her arms was encased in something and agony fired into her. She swallowed a mouthful of bile, trying to breath past the terrible pain in her chest.

"Whoa, it's okay, it's just me, Mira," The bounty hunter had moved back, giving her space, "You're safe, honey. It's just me. You're safe now."

Something clattered to the floor, causing Yiding to jump. Footsteps raced to the door.

"What happened here?" Mical demanded. "What—she's awake!" He started to approach.

"No!" Yiding cried out, reinforcing this command with a strong Force push, one that sent Mical stumbling back and crashing against the wall. Her mouth felt horribly dry and she tried to swallow any bit of saliva, but she was producing none.

"Well, at least her Force abilities seem to be intact," Mical rubbed the back of his head as more footsteps sounded.

"I sensed something," Visas murmured, "Exile."

_Stay back,_ Yiding wanted to say, but her tongue was too stiff. She coughed and pushed at everyone through the Force. She inhaled deeply, stretching out into the Force. _Right. Friends._ Her friends were here. They were all staring at her now, and she was all bundled up, and _please stop staring at me, stop staring at me for Force's sake—_

"Exile," Kreia's voice was a rude interruption to the growing panic. Yiding pushed her back the same way she did all the others. She was getting dizzy, and black spots danced in her vision as she fought to raise her head.

"She's passing out…" She heard Mical remark, before all went dark.

* * *

><p>The next time she woke was no less violent than the first. The glass of water near her cot shattered as it hit the floor, spilling liquid under the bed. She heard screaming, and her vision spun as she struggled to focus her eyes. It took her a while to realize she was the one screaming.<p>

Then Kreia was in front of her, blind eyes staring sightlessly into hers, as the old woman's mental presence bore down on her mind. _Exile, peace. Stop this nonsense._

_Move away!_

She had pushed Kreia away already before her mind cleared and it no longer seemed like the dark clad Sith assassins were surrounding her, holding her struggling body down. She had…she had gotten out. She had crawled, stifling her cries of pain. It had been cold. She was cold. She shuddered under the blankets, blinking hot tears. Her arms and legs were not tied down, but they were bandaged and splinted. She hurt, everywhere, and she felt dizzy and profoundly ill.

"Yiding?" Mira was keeping to the doorway, "Yiding are you alright? Do you need help? Can I come near you?"

"No." Odd that her mouth was no longer dry. She did not remember drinking anything. "No. No no no no no."

"Okay," Mira said in a placating tone, "I won't come near. Just tell us what you need. Are you in pain?"

Mical shifted, capturing Yiding's attention, and her focus zeroed in on him. "No, stay away,"

He raised his hands, "I'm staying right here, Exile," He said soothingly.

Kreia's presence loomed in her mind, and she suddenly heard screaming again. It took a long time for her to realize she was sobbing, and that Kreia's mental signature had retreated.

"What are we going to do?" Mira asked Mical plaintively.

_You need to calm down,_ Yiding told herself, _You need to calm down. You're safe, these are friends, you're being ridiculous. _She gulped in breaths, trying to release her anxiety.

"Yiding?"

_Calm, serenity,_ Yiding thought, _You are Jedi._ Her breathing slowed. Mical, sensing her relax, began to approach, and panic flared up. She sent something crashing to the floor and shrieked at the loud sound. Breathing frantically, she began sobbing.

"I'm sorry," She bit her lip, as more hot tears streamed from her eyes, "I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm sorry, I—"

"Shhhh," Mical hushed her, "It's okay, we understand, you have nothing to be sorry for. Just take it easy, alright? I promise none of us will come near you without permission, alright? You have your space. It's okay."

_What utter rot,_ Yiding thought miserably, lifting her better arm to cover her mouth. She was pathetic. She had escaped from Darth Sion, and she was still a wreck. It was like he was torturing her remotely now. "Oh Force, oh Force…" It hurt, it hurt, all of her hurt, and it still felt like millions of tiny thorns were pricking into her in that deep place inside her _oh Force oh Force oh Force make it stop make it stop make it stop—_

"It's okay," Mical said soothingly. Kreia moved, startling her, but the old woman was merely moving to the door. Yiding could not help but be relieved. "Are you in pain, Exile?" The healer asked.

She hurt, but she would be damned if she let him near her. "No. Stay away."

"Okay," He said softly, keeping his place.

"Don't come here," Yiding reinforced, breathing quickly.

"I'm keeping back, I promise."

"Don't…" And just like that, her strength gave out. The adrenaline brought on by panic faded away like smoke, leaving her exhausted and depleted. "Don't touch me…"

* * *

><p>The next time she was awake, the splints were gone. She still hurt everywhere, but it was a monotonous, continuous hurt that obviously did not impede her mobility, because one moment she had woken up and the next moment she was in the corner of the room, huddled, with her knees drawn up and arms wrapped tightly around them. She was vaguely aware of Mical pausing at the other side of the bed, but most of her was struggling to calm herself down.<p>

_You're safe, this is the medbay of the Ebon Hawk. Pull yourself together. You're out. You're being ridiculous. There is no one here. Do you want people to think you're crazy?_

"Exile?" Mical called softly, "Do you want some water?"

Water sounded good. Water sounded…very good. She nodded, but somehow let out a whimper without realizing it when Mical moved to pour her a glass. Her chest felt a little tight as he stopped.

"I'm sorry." _Why am I like this?_ Jedi were not supposed to be like this. Granted, she was not really a Jedi anymore, but she had learned all the values of a Jedi, at least she thought she did…_Serenity, serenity, serenity, serenity…_

"Don't be sorry," Mical said quietly, moving on to pour her glass, "It's not your fault. Here, I'm going to hover the glass over to you. Can you drink it on your own?"

She was drinking the glass on her own whether or not she could, because she was not letting Mical come near her. The glass was cold in her hands and when she drank the water was cool against her throat. Cool, not hot. She fought down another wave of panic, but only managed to succeed for long enough to finish the glass before throwing it away from her. The shattering noise further startled her and she raised her hands to cover her ears.

_I have to hide. No. You're safe. Have to get away, somewhere dark, where no one can see me…no you're being absurd. You're among friends, there is no danger here._ Phantom fingers ran up her legs and she jerked, gritting her teeth to fight against the hands that locked on her jaw. _No. In the present. Pull yourself together. Stand up. Stand up. Stand, damn it!_

_Safe safe safe safe safe safe safe…_

"Well what do you want _me _to do?" Atton sounded wry. "If she's freaking out over goody-two-shoes Mical, what makes you think _I _can help her at all?"

Yiding took her hands off. "I'm _alright!_" She stated. No, shouted. _Damn it._ There were more people gathered outside the medbay. _I'm alright…I'm alright…you have to say it out loud you imbecile_—"I'm alright."

"Yeah, sure you are," Atton sneered, and Yiding suddenly could not take it anymore.

"I said I'm _alright!"_ She cried out, throwing something at him. He ducked and it crashed into the wall. Some monitor.

There was a chirp and a beep followed by a crooning sound from T3.

"She'll be alright," Mandalore's voice cut in.

_Thank you._ Trust the one person who believed her to be Mandalore. She looked up at their faces. Mandalore was behind his mask. Atton was a little in the room, leaning against the wall and looking dubious and yet unconcerned. Brianna and Visas were in the back, with Mira slightly in the front behind Mandalore, all three with identical expressions of pity and compassion. It made her sick.

"Do you need help?" Mira asked cautiously.

"No I don't need help!" Yiding exploded, "Just give me a minute!"

"Okay," The huntress said softly.

Yiding covered her head with her hands. They were watching her. _They're watching me. Oh Force they're staring at me…_Go away go away go away go away go away…it took her a moment to realize she was saying the words out loud. She has been doing that a lot lately, not paying attention to her surroundings, hurting, it hurt, she hurt, she was so tired she was going _crazy…_her nose felt stuffed and she could not stop sobbing, nor could she hold back the torrent of tears. Force, she had not even cried so much when everyone had died on Malachor, or when the Jedi turned their back on her, and for crying out loud why was she even…crying? What was wrong with her? She escaped from the Sith. She was no longer in their clutches. She should not be acting so irrationally.

"I'm sorry," She moaned despondently, "I—I can't stop it."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." It was Kreia who spoke. "You are safe now. Take your time. The worst is over."

Kreia rarely voiced comforting words, so it made them more meaningful. She felt herself calm down considerably, but her lungs still shook with spasms and her hands trembled.

"Tell the tiny Jedi what ails you," The old woman went on, "I can sense your pain, but you are shielding very tightly."

"No." Yiding could not take it. She sniffled. "I can handle it. It's nothing."

"You will tell him," Kreia reiterated, in a tone that broke for no argument, "And he will record this so we know how you are faring. Perhaps we will attempt to treat you once you are ready."

She will never be ready. _No. No, I just have to try harder. I will overcome this._ The thought of Mical touching her, _anyone _touching her, was too much to bear, even if it was a year, ten years, a lifetime from now. It will never be enough. _Pull yourself together._

"Come," Kreia said, "She needs room to breathe, and we are stifling her." It was ridiculous, because except for Mical, and Atton, who was leaning by the exit, no one was actually in the room. Not for the first time, Yiding wondered when he life became so messed up.

_Stop. Self-pity serves no one._ But what else could she do? The terror clung to her heart like a leech, draining blood from it. She felt like she was enthralled by her own fear, and her panic simply refused to ease, no matter what breathing exercises, mental disciplining, or rationalizations she was trying. Darkness was clouding her vision, and she blinked desperately to clear it. _Focus on the now. You're here now._ She huddled tighter as she felt phantom fingers grip her ankle. Why was she feeling them? They seemed so real.

"Come along," Kreia said sharply when no one reacted to her words, "All of you. The Exile has better things to do than serve as an object for you to gawk at."

_Pretty thing, pretty pretty thing, so milky white and shapely—you're a looker aren't you?_

Yiding squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears even though she was supposed to talk to Mical. _Not listening not listening not listening not listening not listening…_

* * *

><p>"She's still severely malnourished," Mical rubbed his eyes, "She kept saying that she hurt, but not where. Apparently everywhere. That was all I could get out of her. She hasn't stopped crying."<p>

The rest of the crew were solemn. Everyone kept expecting Mandalore to utter something derisive, but he had been silent all this time. Kreia was similarly so; she had been irate when Atton and Mical first returned without the Exile, but ever since they found her, the old woman had seemed to deflate. She kept mostly to her chambers, meditating and ignoring everyone, while the Exile cried in her sleep as she recovered. From Mical's findings, they had a good idea of what had happened to her during the long five months in Sion's hold. Even Visas had been ill—Darth Nihilus had not committed nearly the same atrocities on the Miraluka as Sion had on Yiding.

"I suppose we should be glad that Sion didn't just kill her," Mira said bitterly. It had puzzled everyone, why the Dark Lord chose to torture her instead of straight-out kill her. Then again, they were not too concerned with this. It was a stroke of luck, however small, and no one questioned luck in these times.

"Is there nothing you can do?" Bao-Dur asked, "No pain relievers you can give her?"

"She won't let me touch her," Mical's shoulders sagged, "She'd rather bear the pain then tolerate my proximity, or anyone else's, as you can tell. And her Force control is haphazard. It's…as wounded as she is. She can't use the Force to help herself either."

"Seemed pretty okay to me," Brianna remarked, "She threw stuff and pushed people just fine."

"Those don't require the same mental calm healing does, obviously." The Disciple rubbed his eyes again.

"Will she get better?" Visas asked softly.

"Of course she will," Kreia snapped, breaking her silence, "She is eager to try. Some things take time. It will take more than the likes of Sion, Lord of Pain or no, to break the Exile."

"I pray you are right," Said the Miraluka, "And I pray it happens soon. The galaxy needs her."

Surprisingly, Kreia replied, "The galaxy can wait for her, for a change. She is no such fool, to be strung along by the currents of the Force and abandoned at will. She will fulfill her destiny once she is recovered and ready, and no sooner. You will not push her nor pressure her."

The rest of the crew remained silent. They were all aware how significant these words were. Kreia had always been pushing the Exile herself, anxious to see a fate fulfilled. That she was willing to wait for the Exile spoke volumes of both her regard and for the situation.

Mandalore turned. "She'll be fine," He said as he walked away, "She's done more impossible things than this."

Still, it was hard to be optimistic, with Yiding weeping in the corner of the medbay behind closed doors.


	3. Chapter 2

When the Sky Falls

Chapter 2

_Draw seventeen, play +2 or -2? Eh, I'll drag this one out and play -2. Opponent draws 10, puts down +4. Draw 5, aha.  
><em>

Atton considered his hand. Mira was cooking, humming some odd tune even though no one was in the mood to hear it. It was her way of coping, and it did help, if only a bit. Normally the Exile cooked, as a kind of gesture of gratitude for all of her companions sticking with her on the Ebon Hawk, but that was simply not plausible now. Mical was sprawled over the table, snoring a little. With Yiding occupying the medbay, and terrified of anyone approaching her, the blonde had taken to sleeping in the mess instead. She was mostly healed, other than the mysterious pain and unhealthily low weight, and was therefore unlikely to be in any danger unless someone freaked her out and she hurt herself with her telekinesis. Next to him, Bao-Dur was making some modifications to his blaster, while Brianna was mending a sock. Visas sat across from them, appearing to be meditating.

They had listened to Yiding sob for the better part of two days now, on and off. Frequently they heard her vomiting in the refresher, or at the very least retching, because Atton doubted she ate enough for anything to come back up. Going inside was out of the question for anyone other than Mical, another thing Atton had to resent the smug bastard for. Still, it gave him some pleasure to know that at least Yiding was not too thrilled with him either—far from it, in fact. She was, frankly, a mess, which was surprising only because Atton knew from personal experience that other Jedi had succumbed far sooner than she, either to the Dark Side, or to the regular old-fashioned madness, or to death, which ever came easiest. The others thought she was pretty insane right now, but the kind of lunacy Jaq had witnessed involved pure catatonia, with complete detachment from the real world. Yiding was doing surprisingly _well. _At least she was lucid.

Sort of.

He swept up his cards with a sigh. At least Blondie was doing something. What was Atton doing? All he did was fly the piece of metal they were on off planet and into hyperspace, where the Sith could not follow. Not directly, anyway. It was downright uncomfortable, being the brunt of everyone's anger, and truthfully, Atton did not know what they were all complaining about, especially Kreia. At least he went with Yiding when they docked. Everyone else except Blondie just stayed behind like complete cowards.

_Not that any of this matters._

They were shaken, mostly because all of them expected things to just hop right back to normal once they found her. Kreia had insisted that she was still alive, something about a meditative bond through the Force, though it had been clouded by Sion's influence. None of them imagined that Yiding would return to them like this, except Atton, who still underestimated the sheer damage. She had hardly been recognizable when they found her in the snow, her bony body ridiculously small and almost blanketed by long, tangled hair matted with blood and dirt. T3 recognized her biosigns, but her Force signature had been weak, nonexistent. The cold had penetrated her frail form, and if Mical had been any less of a healer, she would have been dead.

Still, they had figured, just a few physical injuries—she would laugh it off. She usually did. She was a proper soldier, use to toughing things out, and on occasion it was difficult to remember that she was actually quite delicate even for a human. Once he had seen her in her underwear, and he remembered the part of him that was still Jaq thinking he could snap her spine in half with one hand. Since then, Yiding had proved incredibly difficult to kill or even capture. She was like a shadow, a wind, a bright light, a glowing star, and her presence exuded beyond her physical form. The Force, he suspected. She was more than a woman, more than a Jedi. She just was.

They simply could not imagine any other kind of Exile. Even Atton, with his dark past and the memories of a life devoted to torture and death, could not fathom what the Exile would be like if her light were extinguished. Reality was a rude blow. All of them had come to care for her, depend on her to maintain this uneasy dynamic between so many different personalities.

_She had nearly died._

The thought filled him with more trepidation than it should have warranted. Force knew he tried to keep his distance. He knew he made her uncomfortable at times, sometimes even hurt her feelings, which was laughable because for crying out loud, there was a time when he was pretty certain Jedi did not have any. He was Atton Rand, he kept to himself, he cared only about himself and he was only sticking around because of that old crone. Otherwise he would have been long gone by now. He hated Jedi, even that one female Jedi who ultimately saved his life, and no matter what Yiding said she was still more Jedi than anything else. Still that passive…but she was not really passive, not where it matters. Still that emotionless…but she was not emotionless either. She was just sad and tired all the time, and who could blame her? She was not exactly seeing and doing happy things, and at least she bothered to try covering it all up by cracking lame jokes and doing housework on the ship, like cook and clean and help mend blaster holes.

It was honestly a comfortable living on the Ebon Hawk.

Until now, at least. Before, the Exile was the one who planned expeditions to fund their supplies. For a well-respected general of the Mandalorian wars, she really did not know what "delegation" or "allocation" meant, at least in terms of responsibility, doing every stupid task herself and bringing along reinforcements only when necessary, but then Yiding was no longer leading an army. She was leading a bunch of misfits who had even less reason to stay than Atton did. As far as he knew, Kreia did not threaten the rest of them, use her ugly Sith powers to crack into their skulls and uproot what deep secrets were there. Then again, he supposed he would not know. None of the crew were the type to share their stories. Either way, no one could doubt that Yiding was an effective leader, and her style of leadership was perfectly suited to the company she kept.

Mira and Bao-Dur were less so. Mira did not have Yiding's foresight, and Bao-Dur did not have her authority. The two still managed to grab the duties of supervisor, though. Without Yiding, they still needed food and other things, and the bounty-hunter and Iridonian took it upon themselves to arrange missions in her place. Kreia and Mandalore took themselves off the roster, which did not surprise Atton. Mical took himself off long missions because he was afraid Yiding might make herself sicker than she already was. Visas also wanted to take herself off, but Brianna and Mira intimidated her into joining, and Atton was in because it gave him a reason to get off the ship and away from Yiding's weeping.

This would all be easier if the cursed woman would let someone _approach _her. How were they to help if she would not even let them near her?

Over the table, Mical groaned, but did not wake up.

_Schutta,_ Atton thought viciously. Of all the former Jedi friends Yiding could have met, why did it have to be the Force-forsaken _Disciple_?

But even Atton knew that if it were not Mical and instead someone much less skilled in the healing arts, Yiding would probably be dead. They had been too close, much too close. The sheer damage done to her was beyond belief, and one of these days he was going to figure out how she got out of there and crawled a mile away. No. He was going to try to put that memory behind him. He did not want to remember how she looked, frozen in the snow, barely recognizable even as a human being, let alone the Exile. It was surreal, almost, to look at her and know that there was once a time when he enjoyed corrupting beauty like that. Yiding would have been one of the finest specimens, and he would have taken great delight in shattering her, piece by piece. He nearly got sick on the spot.

_No._ Atton squeezed his eyes shut. _She's better now. Blondie healed her._ Far from the loveliness she was when she was healthy and glowing in the Force—she was a shriveled thing now, all bones and skin and sharp tendons and large, almost crazed eyes, but noticeably Yiding, with Yiding's fighting defiance. Just because she never came out of the medbay did not mean she did not try.

Mira finally turned off the stove. "Any help with setting the table?" She called out in false cheer. Brianna and Bao-Dur instantly volunteered. Mical roused from his brief nap, wiping the drool from his lips. He glanced at the chrono.

"Oh." He rubbed his eyes.

Mira prepared a tray and headed over to the medbay. She often called in first before opening the door, so she would not startle the woman within. "Yiding?" She called gently. "I have food. You hungry, sweetie? Do you want me to leave it at the door? I'm going to open it, okay?" Atton heard the door slide open. "Hey there. Look, I cooked."

Yiding had gotten quiet over the past few hours, and had been inconsolable for the past two days, so it was a shock to hear her voice, hoarse and dry though it was.

"Thanks Mira," The Exile sounded tired, "I know you've been putting up with a lot from me."

"Nonsense, honey," Mira hid her surprise well. "Hey, do you want to eat with us? It's okay if you don't want to. Must be kind of dull here though, might be good for you to come out and stretch your legs a bit?"

Atton glanced around. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to listen. _Sith, Mira,_ He thought vehemently, _Don't you think Yiding is trying her best even without you pushing?_

"O-okay," Yiding's voice sounded small, terrified, and Atton could not help but marvel at how brave she was. He could hear how hard this assent was for her.

"Great," Mira said a little too enthusiastically, but Yiding probably did not notice. "Come on. I'll bring your tray to the table."

Mira materialized into the mess hall, but everyone's attention was on the Exile. Clad in her nightshirt and pants, she looked small and delicate, the clothing loose and baggy over her starved frame. She managed to move to the entrance before huddling to one side, eyes flashing with panic and swallowing frantically.

Atton looked around and noticed everyone was staring. _Well, isn't that a way to unnerve someone._

"Hey, what happened to setting the table? Schuttas!" He barked.

That got everyone moving.

"I don't see _you _helping Atton," Brianna reproached with exasperation, but at least everyone's attention was diverted. From the corner of his eye, Atton could see the Exile still lingering in the doorway, taking deep calming breaths. She looked almost sleepy, with her eyes drooped and her face sagged, but he could smell her fear as easily as if he were a hound. She was frightened.

"Ooh, this smells nice," Brianna said animatedly as she sat down. "You've outdone yourself today, Mira."

"Thanks." Mira looked up. "Yiding? Come join us."

Once again, everyone was staring at her.

He could see her struggling. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. She held her arms as if to protect herself, shoulders hunched as if ready to curl up into a tight ball. Something about them scared her, spoke to a profound trauma at her core.

"I-I-I—" She swallowed, and visibly lost the battle. "I'm not hungry." She turned around and fled. The door hissed closed.

Silence fell.

"Sith," Atton cursed, "What were you all staring at her for?"

"You were too!" Brianna snapped back.

The former assassin slammed his fist on the table in frustration. He wanted to go to her, to gather her into his arms and hold her tight until she understood that she was safe, but given his past and now hers, grabbing her had a completely opposite meaning. He was going to _kill _Sion. He was going to rip the bastard with his bare hands. "Just how long are we supposed to put up with this?" He demanded out loud, because such sentiments unnerved him as much as Kreia's newfound gentleness did, and he needed some way to remind himself that he _did not care about other people_. "There's a Force-forsaken _galaxy _to save, I've got tons of better things to do with my life, and she's not getting any better!"

The others ignored him, use to his self-centered remarks.

"Well," Said Bao-Dur, "That's progress, right? At least she didn't break down this time."

The zabrak spoke too soon, because half an hour later they could hear soft sobs coming from the medbay.

* * *

><p>It was the crowd.<p>

It was people. It plagued her mind and filled her very instincts with tension. No amount of thinking it through dampened her instincts to run and hide. For what seemed like an eternity, any contact with another sentient being had resulted in pain and humiliation so unbearable she felt like her very soul was shattering to pieces. She thought her friends would somehow make all of it go away, but somehow her mind just grouped them with everyone else despite knowing through the Force that they were _real_, that they were _here_, that she was _safe_.

It was ridiculous. She could still remember when she had been well, washing dishes with Mira, mediating the rivalry between Atton and Mical, Brianna and Visas—she had been confident, at least, sure of herself, and if not entirely happy, at least she was not a nerve-wrecked mess. The terror was unbearable, much more so than the omnipresent pain all over her body. She ached and everything hurt and she was pretty sure it was just nerves and yet also sure that it was not. She really wanted the pain to stop but it refused to dissipate, no matter how she tried to meditate or focus her energies.

_Why don't you just kill me?_

_I will have you by my side, Exile._

She shuddered, trying her best to repress her whimpers but they escaped unbidden. Thoughts of Darth Sion filled her with cold. If he had only hated her, she could understand, but it had been something else, and she had no idea what it was. It was twisted and terrifying and made him capable of doing unspeakable things. He wanted her to break, but he carved her like meat, and she could still feel the vile touch of his undead flesh, the stink of decomposition invading her nostrils as he pressed his body against hers, the mere contact somehow draining her energies away and changing her, warping her thoughts all she could see was death and torture.

_Focus._ That was in the past. She had to deal with her friends, and she had to be able to _eat _with them, and talk to them all at once, hold meetings…it was not so impossible, she had done it before. Except dark visions clouded her mind, visions from her captivity, when she had been offered the illusion of normalcy only to see her friends warp into assassins and attack her, bear her down to the floor and laugh as she screamed. _No. In the now. Focus on the now. _She had to get better. She had to get back to normal. The galaxy needed her. _No no no no no._ She did not want to fight for the galaxy if it meant facing the Sith again. Not after what had happened. _No, focus._ Yiding was the Exile, the last hope for the galaxy, and she had to save people, save them from the Sith, but _no no no no no no…_

_What am I going to do? _Her sobs softened to high-pitched whimpers, but no matter how she tried she could not stop them. _How am I supposed to do anything now? I was so much better before, I've fallen so far. Why would any of them stay? Why would any of them follow me or help me? I couldn't even keep myself from being captured and now…now I hurt—_

_You will know pain, Exile, as I do…_

She tightened, squeezing her eyes shut. _Not in my head. He can't possibly be in my head. He's gone. He's away. I'm gone._

Some warrior she was._  
><em>

"Yiding?" It was Mira again. The sweet bounty hunter had been so patient with her, cooking such a delicious meal only for Yiding to turn it away. A wave of bile rose in her throat. She could not leave the medbay again. She could not join them in the mess hall.

"I'm sorry," She whispered, hardly understanding it herself.

"Yiding, I have your tray, okay? I'm going to open the door and slide it in so you can eat, alright honey?"

Yiding buried her face in her hands. _One step forward, five steps back._ It had not been so bad to open the door and face Mira the first time, but now she could not get up from her corner. _Don't look don't watch don't know don't know…_but she heard the door open and a shriek erupted from her.

"Easy," Mira said soothingly, and she heard the tray slide across the floor. Instantly she smelled the aroma of cooked food. It was still warm. "I'm going to leave you alone now, alright? I'll check on you in an hour to collect you tray. Try to eat as much as you can, okay?"

Yiding did not look up or reply. After a few seconds, she heard the door close, and only then did she raise her head. The food was there, as promised, and the people were not. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she wondered when she suddenly became such a coward.


	4. Chapter 3

When the Sky Falls

Chapter 3

There was a chair padding on the co-pilot seat. Yiding had taken the initiative and bought Atton one on Telos. _"I know you tend to stay in the cockpit," _She had said shyly, though he had not believed it at the time, _"And I figured you would be more comfortable if we put this on your chair. Are you sure you don't want me to move a bed to one of the chambers?"_

He did not like that she was being so nice to him. He had slept in far worse places than a pilot's chair, and had dumped her gift on the co-pilot seat with a smug invitation for her to join him in the cockpit anytime she liked. She found that statement funny in a resigned sort of way and just left. It was a gift, after all, and he could do what he wanted with it.

Over the months Yiding had done tons of other little things. She mended his shirt without even looking twice at his bare torso, much to his frustration. He once got sick before Blondie came along and she felt his head with deft fingers to diagnose him. She stood up for him against Kreia, whom he knew she had admired and came to care deeply for approval. Most infuriatingly, she took away his pazaak cards every time she sensed he was playing instead of sleeping when he should.

He hated when she took care of him, because he was a full-grown man and she honestly seemed like a little girl, young face with large eyes and seriously, her cheeks still looked like they had baby fat. There were times when people talked to her and they belittled her because they thought she was a child. Yiding tolerated all of this with that Jedi calm her people seemed to master despite all wisdom, but Jedi did not take care of other people. Jedi did not tuck people in with blankets if they fell asleep at the seat without covers. Jedi did not cook favorite meals for a bad day, crawl under the dashboard to clean what was frankly a disgusting place—he had liberally chewed and spat gum until Yiding complained about the mess and promptly squeezed past his legs to collect all the wrappers and dried paste, dirt and dust and hair and all. It was such an awful experience to see her do this that Atton stopped eating gum and became more meticulous about cleaning the cockpit. He hated when she took care of him.

And that chair padding was atrocious. All elegant and simple yet tasteful just like her. She probably figured he did not really care what was on his chair as long as it was comfortable and thus chose whatever she liked best, and she was right, sort of. Atton did not care, until now, that is. Now that padding mocked him from across the cockpit, a clear announcement of its original giver and how he had failed her. He hated it.

He grabbed it from the other chair and furiously unraveled it to cover his own seat.

* * *

><p>Yiding crawled out of the medbay when everyone was sleeping. Crawled, because she had starved to the point of losing what strength she had in her limbs, which was not considerable to begin with, given her captivity and subsequent fracture-healing. Atton came upon her when he was on his way to the refresher. She huddled in the shadows, trying not to move or attract attention, but he always had good nightvision. She probably thought he did not notice, or was trying really hard to think so, because she did not make a sound until he was nearly on top of her, and even that was a small squeak.<p>

"Hey, what's your hurry?" Atton asked, "What couldn't wait until morning, eh?" There was a refresher in the medbay, albeit one without a shower, and she could have been crawling to bathe herself—she did need one rather desperately at this point—but considering she could not seem to even stand, it seemed like moot point.

She exerted a wobbly Force push to shove him away, and it was so weak and unfocused that he only felt a blast of shaky pressure against his body, which slid right off him. Her head dropped so her face planted on the floor. Her presence was small, withdrawn, so he could barely sense her, even with his proximity.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, and noting there was no one around to see the two of them anyway, he cautiously reached out to touch her on the shoulder. She stiffened, and he could feel the muscles shaking on her small frame.

"Please leave," She whispered, "Do your own thing. I-I-I can make it."

"Make it where, exactly?" Atton asked, not letting go because by Force, distancing herself from everyone was not helping her at all, "The bathroom? And then what? You'll drown yourself?" It did not occur to him that this might be what she wanted to do until he said it, but then she could easily have drowned herself in the toilet in the medbay. He swallowed the bile that rose at the thought. _Should not have said that aloud. Might give her ideas. _Previous, weaker Jedi had certainly taken such suggestions before. "Or you'll lock yourself over there, so all the girls can't shower anymore."

She did not respond, but she sniffled and wept quietly, a pathetic thing, far descended from the quiet dignity she had been months ago.

Deciding that ignoring her touchiness was the answer, Atton slid an arm beneath her, eliciting a soft cry. She grabbed at his forearm with surprising strength and the Force around them tightened in panic.

"No no no no no no no—no please Atton _please,_" She was so weak that her voice rasped and was only as loud as a whisper, and in the dim light the tears on her cheeks glistened sharply like liquid diamond, "Force please _no_—I'll do anything _please—_"

Anger rose in response to this. "You'll do anything?" Atton pulled her close, cupping the back of her head to support her and tightening his fingers in her hair to tug her face to level with his. "You know that is the _wrong _thing to say to your torturer? Did you say that to the Sith?" It was hard to see her expression in the darkness, but he could imagine. So many Jedi had said the same thing to him, young and old, male and female, and he had delighted in it because it was a mark of defeat, of surrender, but now these words brought no such pleasure. Did Yiding give in? "Do you know what Sith do with that?" He trailed a hand over her breasts, not relenting even as she shuddered, "And that's just physical."

She braced her hands against his shoulders, her elbows trembling with effort and the Force push sliding around him desperately. "Atton, Atton I know you hate me but—but—" She crumpled visibly, even in the darkness.

"Did you say that?" Atton had to know. "Did you say that to the Sith?"

"No!" This came out as a cry, followed by, "Yes, yes, I said that…I needed his attention on me, I needed his attention on me, better me than her, better me than her—" Warm spittle splashed on to his face as she began retching. She sobbed helplessly as she heaved. "Please, Atton, _please!"_

His fingers relaxed in realization and her body slid down his arm as she shook in spasms. _Better me than her._ He should have known the Exile would not give in for herself. Previous Jedi had succumbed the same way, but they had never promised to do anything to save another. Doing anything was too unconditional a vow to swear lightly, and on the occasion Jaq had tested their resolve, they had never been reduced to such pleas to save another. They usually just let it happen.

He raised his other hand to cup her tiny face, starved and bony and white with sickening fear. It occurred to him that this was the closest he had ever been to the Exile, and the first time they actually touched. She shook like a leaf in the wind, her breathing quick and panicked, her cheeks wet and slippery. Not exactly how he imagined this to be, when he locked himself away in the cockpit and indulged in impossible dreams.

"Atton please let me go, Atton I know you hate me but you're a good man, I know you're a good man, please Atton I can't bear it don't do this to me—you're not a Sith and you're not a torturer _why are you doing this to me—_" Her voice was starting to rise, and if she kept going she would wake the others and Atton would have a lot of explaining to do.

He pressed her face into his shoulder and she inhaled sharply and held it as he slid his other arm under her legs. There was no one watching, and they would not make odd comments and Yiding certainly would not either.

"I'm not a Sith," He said to her, his voice far gentler than he thought he could manage, "I'm not a torturer, and I don't hate you."

She was silent.

He lifted her—she was ridiculously light, and pressed his cheek against her head when she clung frantically to him. He could feel her heart racing and that could not be good for her blood pressure. Turning around, he nearly fell over when he beheld Kreia standing in the corridor, watching him. Or not watching him, considering she was blind. Why did Yiding keep that old crone around again?

"Did you think you could help her by scaring her further, Fool?" The old woman remarked acerbically. "Or do you seek to take advantage of her while she is in this state?"

"She can hear every word you say, you know!" Atton tightened his hold. Yiding's face was still pressed against his shoulder and she did not turn at Kreia's voice. "And look, she's alright now."

"Put her down _this instant._"

Considering what Kreia had been able to do to him, he really should listen to her.

"No." Atton stood firm, bracing himself and looking straight into Kreia's face where her eyes were obscured by her hood.

Yiding uttered a low moan.

"What's going on?" Mical materialized from the mess hall, rubbing his eyes wearily. "Kreia? Atton? _Exile?_"

"Why do you keep _calling _her that?" Atton snapped loudly, "She has a name!"

"Put her down at once," Kreia reached out with one gnarled hand, "Or I will _make _you put her down." Beginnings of pressure at his throat nearly made him comply, but the quick-thinking part of him knew that if she tried to strangle him, he could drop Yiding, and the old witch, batty as she was, seemed to care about the Exile's well-being. She would not actually choke him.

"I'm going to—" Yiding began retching again, though like before they were merely dry heaves.

"What were you two doing out here?" Mical asked, bewildered.

"She was crawling on the floor. I was going to the 'fresher," Which reminded him that he still had to go, actually, "Nice going, Blondie. Patient leaves the medbay on her hands and knees and belly and you're still snoring away in the mess."

"You're making her sicker. Put her down." It was as authoritative as Mical ever got. He actually even seemed angry.

Yiding began curling around his body.

"I don't think she _wants _me to put her down, pretty boy," Atton snapped scathingly.

"Atton, _put her down_ because she is _seizing!_ Get her to the medbay!"

She was curling around him with surprising strength, as if her muscles were cramping up. There were still residual spasms from her vomiting fit, but they were small, and _Ow, that's starting to hurt, ow ow ow ow ow—_

"Move it!" Kreia barked, and Atton was following Mical into the medbay where the blonde began rummaging the drawers for drugs.

"Damn it!" The only time Atton heard him curse like that was when they first brought Yiding back. "I don't have the proper medicines for seizures!"

"Use the Force, you imbecile! Let me," Kreia shoved Atton toward the bed where he tried to lay his burden down, but she had tightened too much around him. Kreia's nails scratched at him as she buried her hand between his shoulder and the Exile's forehead. "Relax," She commanded.

Yiding's body abruptly sagged away from Atton.

"You will step away," Kreia told him with a voice that was firm despite her preoccupation, "You will go back to where you had been going and you will stay away from her, or I will tear you to tinier pieces than you have ever imagined doing onto others. _Go._"

Atton swallowed and hurried out while Mical took his place to check on Yiding's physical condition.

* * *

><p>The fit lasted for half an hour despite Kreia's work, but the witch did manage to prevent noticeable brain damage, and for the first time since Yiding's rescue, she was able to sleep. She slept for two days, during which Mical fed her nutrients intravenously. She was so dehydrated at this point that when she woke she did not have to use the toilet.<p>

Neither Kreia nor the Disciple spoke of what Atton had done that night, but Mira somehow figured it out anyway. She swaggered into the cockpit as Atton played pazaak against himself like he usually did and slapped the covering on the chair.

"You're sick," She said to him.

"Thanks?"

"Do you care at all about her? Because honestly I can't tell anymore. You're a downright prick, a selfish nerfherder, and while everyone else is going out of their way to help Yiding, you're just doing whatever the hell you want, aren't you? Do you have _any _idea what it is like for her? You don't just grab someone who went through what she went through!"

"She was on the _floor,_" Atton exclaimed, before it occurred to him to keep his mouth shut. _Force, I'm usually better at this._

"You let her lie on the floor," Mira snapped back, "You don't pick her up unless she _asks _you to. Visas told me that when Nihilus had her, he didn't even have to go through the physical torturing. They attack your mind first, Atton! They attack your mind so that it feels like they're twisting you into a person you don't even _know—_"

Atton knew all this, and had no intention of listening to Mira list it for him. "I know! I know, alright?" He exploded, "They start with your mind, and try to whisper things to make you think you're thinking them, that they're part of your subconscious, all the while doing what is the equivalent of stabbing several thousand lightsabers into your brain! And if your will proves too strong to succumb then, then they start torturing your body, electricity, branding, violation, whipping, burning, dunking your head in water all the while doing the same things to your head so you think you're drowning, and then in between they lock you in a tiny crate so you start suffocating in your own heat and you can't sithin' _move_, and if that doesn't work they break your bones by crushing them with an iron wheel! If pain doesn't work they switch to pleasure so you feel like the corruption is within you, and if _that _doesn't work then they bring in others, innocents you're supposed to protect and defend, and they torture them in front of you and make you eat the meat and laugh unless you give in!"

"You know all this," Mira was pale, her eyes wide, "How?"

_Sith._ He could not believe he lost his control so completely and utterly.

"You've done this before," The bounty hunter realized, and she began stepping back, "You've—you've done it before. You have that look of a murderer. Oh _Force—_" She whirled around to run, but Atton lunged out of his seat and pinned her against the wall of the cockpit before she could even react.

"Don't—!" He caught himself as he stared into the redhead's terrified eyes. He raised his hand but held it back, "Don't tell anyone."

"_Why?_" Mira exclaimed in a hiss, even though really, it was in her best interests to just agree with him, "You've done the same things! You're _exactly _like those monsters who hurt Yiding!"

"No I'm not," And Atton felt a sense of eerie calm. "I'm not that person anymore."

They were both still as they regarded each other.

"Would you do that to Yiding?"

"…I can never hurt her." It was odd, how frightening it was to admit that, because it was true. Atton could never hurt gentle, kind Yiding who was both a fearsome warrior and a compassionate healer. He would die for her. He would…he would end the galaxy before he hurt her. He let Mira go slowly. "Don't tell her."

"She doesn't _know_?"

"Don't tell her," He begged, "Please." It was not easy, pleading someone else, but he had to. He did not know what he would do if Yiding turned away from him. It was stupid, because he had been trying to drive her away through other means, but he did not want her to turn away from him because of _this._ If she must hate him, he wanted it to be because he was still a monster, not because he once was, and by the Force, nothing he had done had worked so far. "I'm not that person anymore, so it doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters. It's who you were and what made you who you are. Whatever that is." Mira brushed herself off shakily. "Besides, I'd be an absolute moron if I decided to tell Yiding about _this._ There's enough for her to freak out over, let alone that there's a freaking torturer just like those Sith assassins right here in her very ship. Unlike you, I don't want to kill her."

"I don't want to kill her either!"

"You watch yourself," Mira warned, as she slid away from him, "And I'll be watching you. You hurt her, you deal with me."

Overall, empty words, because she believed him. She had been on the same ship with him since Nar Shaddaa and she was not stupid. Still, her warning made him feel hollow. His secret was out, _again_, this time because he let it out. He knew it was only a matter of time before Yiding learned the truth.

_If she is a Jedi, she'll forgive you. If she's not a Jedi, she wouldn't care._ Well she would care, obviously, but Atton wished he had Kreia's confidence that Yiding would forgive him. She had experienced first-hand what it was like to be on the receiving end, and it had altered her so completely she was no longer functional.

_Atton I know you hate me but you're a good man, I know you're a good man, please_…

How in the galaxy would she possibly accept Atton now?


	5. Chapter 4

When the Sky Falls

Chapter 4

Yiding knew she was dreaming, but it seemed unimportant compared to the events taking place. Visas was on her left and Kreia on her right; she wanted the two because they were both trained in the Force, unlike the other companions, but they proved poor choices when fit together. Like always, the two were insulting each other in their shared quiet way, Kreia disdainful and Visas mistrustful, while Yiding wished both could just _see _how they each looked, criticizing the other for traits she herself harbored.

They were on some mission, it really did not matter what, because once again Yiding was pulling on the Force for strength. She was tired and weary, and she really had not wanted the Force back, freeing and rejuvenating though it was. On Malachor V she had seen the cost of power, and what need did she have to obtain such an end? Among the soldiers of the Republic, she had found a camaraderie she had never known among the Jedi, and it often felt like those who were blind to the Force understood its ways the best. They listened to her, obeyed her, but they also took care of her, this young teenage girl wandering from the shelter of a temple to the horrors of a battlefield with nothing but her intellect, instincts, and heart. Then, like castles of sand, they were washed away by the tides of war. Power placed her behind the lines, safe, protected, unharmed, while those under her command fueled her shield with their lives.

She should have died that day. She should have died later, at the hands of the Jedi. It would have been merciful; death at the hands of Jedi would have been quick and kind, even if she would have stared into the eyes of those she knew and admired, those she had aimed to please, even as she fought on the front lines—those she had secretly, if unwisely, believed would never hurt her.

But the Jedi must have their way and the Republic must have its way and the Force was the most demanding of all, crushing down on her just when she had accepted never feeling it again. She was supposed to go to Dantooine, because the Jedi Masters had something to say, an explanation for why they cut her off from it that was apparently more complicated than mere punishment. Yiding really was not interested, but it was important, important for the fate of the galaxy and what she must do.

She did not want to do anything. She wanted to remain in the obscurity of the shadows, working good where she could and suffering none of the major consequences she would have had as a Jedi or Force user. Yet now both Kreia and Visas were talking to her about destiny, Kreia about responsibility, Visas about the importance of what she must do. Sion, Nihilus…how did she end up having to face two Sith Lords by herself?

_You will know pain…_

All of the sudden, Sion was there. Yiding stood her ground as she had in that chamber, because with the Dark Side so clouded, she had not known if he was real or an illusion. As the Sith assassins materialized she suddenly understood and whirled around to flee, but she was surrounded, as she had been back then. In the dream she lifted her hand only to realize she had no lightsaber. Visas and Kreia had turned theirs on, but they were frozen like stone, their blades pointed straight upwards towards the ceiling of the chamber. Sion's single eye seemed to glow in the darkness as he walked slowly forward, the Sith assassins near him balancing menacingly on the balls of their feet. He thrust out his hand and she thrust hers back to meet him, but the Force wavered dangerously and she was thrown into the masses. Cruel fingers dug into her flesh as they ripped at her robes, and her vision danced with lights as lightning coursed through her body, causing her to arch. Black fingers of the dark side spiked into her mind and she writhed both mentally and physically to escape the assault. A hand pressed at her throat as she tried to scream, Kreia, Visas, why were they not coming, Mira, Brianna, Bao-Dur could they hear her, Mical, T3, Atton, Atton, _Atton—_

And suddenly, Atton was one of them, looming over her restrained form, a smirk she had never seen on him gracing his lips. He flicked a switch and excruciating agony melted her nerves, and there was darkness, the Dark Side thick and choking, clogging her eyes, her nose, her mouth, as he pushed into her forcefully and took her like she was an animal. It hurt, unbearably, and tears leaked from her eyes as she realized her pain was giving him such pleasure. She cried out as he groaned and complimented her on assets she had never cared for. Then he lifted something and pressed a button on it, and undeniable pleasure spiked through her brain from one of the probes attached to her head, mingling with the pain.

A sharp, real sting on her cheek roused her abruptly. She was drenched in sweat, and the medbay was bright, so bright she had to squint because her eyes hurt. Something crashed, and her face was slapped again. She registered someone gripping her hands tightly and yanked them back, screaming again.

"Calm down, Exile!" Kreia's biting voice cut through the panic, "Calm down or I shall have to knock you out!"

Something heavy shattered and she shrieked at the sound. The Force, the Force was wild, and it was because of her—she screamed again, and sobbed wretchedly as she tried to move away. With a jerk, she fell off the cot and landed on the floor, but the pain hardly penetrated the fog of pure terror that had taken hold of her.

The bond between her and Kreia flared to life, and she suddenly sensed a surge of power through it, before all was…quiet.

Empty.

Something else crashed, a continuous crash as it descended to the floor and met obstacles on the way. She cried out at the sound, covering her head, but once it was on the floor there was only silence over her rapid breathing. Her mind rebelled, and she started retching, but there was no response from the Force. It was like…it was like she was in exile again.

She turned her disbelieving eyes to Kreia. She had known better than to believe anyone would care for her, but this act was too reminiscent of that horrible trial at the Council, and she could not help but feel crushed.

"You were in danger of hurting others, and yourself," Said the old woman, still standing on the other side of the cot. "This is temporary. I have the ability to take the Force from you, but it is not done with you yet, and will ruin all chances of our success."

Yiding's breathing slowed as she took in the state of the room. Everything was a mess, either broken or displaced and scattered on the floor. Medical apparatuses, flimsies, the computer…oh _Force _what had she done?

"Exile," Mical's dulcet tones cut through her horror, "Are you alright?"

No, no she was not alright. She was not alright and she hurt, everywhere, and she was tired and heartsick and she wished Sion had killed her, she wished the Council had killed her, she should have died on Malachor…with another choked sob, she curled into herself, covering her face with both hands, and wept helplessly.

_Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Focus on the now. It doesn't matter what should have happened; you are alive, for better or worse, and if you don't collect yourself Kreia will hate you more than she does and everyone will hate you more than they do for Force's sake no one is here because they like you they're here because you need to get something done and you can't get it done if you're feeling sorry for yourself all the time!_

Get what done? Face Nihilus? _Sion?_ More Sith assassins, after they already had their way with her? No. No no no no no no no—

"I need you to hold her down." Was that Mical? She jerked up, her vision blurred momentarily, but as the tears welled out she saw the blonde disciple talking to Bao-Dur, who looked uncertain. Mical was holding up a syringe.

"No," Yiding rasped hoarsely, and she tried to back away, but her limbs were weak and she was not even sitting upright and there were so many things in the way. "No, no, please, _no_, please, you're my friends you're—you're my allies, you can't—" Why was Kreia not stopping them? The old woman was just standing there! "Kreia, Kreia _please_, you said you were my ally, you said you would defend me," The old woman's lips were turning down at the corners, and Yiding wept bitterly, realizing that she had lost what approval she had from the old Jedi, but she could not help it, she continued to beg, "Kreia, I looked up to you, I trusted you, Kreia—"

"I'm not sure I feel comfortable with this," Bao-Dur murmured, and Yiding realized she might have an ally in him, at least.

"Bao-Dur, no, please help me, you said you will follow me," She tried to inch back as Mical stepped around the scattered items on the floor. "Bao-Dur, Force, someone help me _please!_"

"Look at her!" Mical exclaimed at the zabrak, who nodded grimly and advanced. Yiding reached out with her mind to push him away, but she came upon nothing, a vast empty void. Desperately she willed her limbs to move, and her panic lent her enough strength to lift herself up with one arm, but it gave at a crucial moment and she fell back on the jagged parts and broken glass. Force, she hurt, everywhere hurt so much that the sharp punctures were hardly felt.

When Bao-Dur lifted her, she fought like a wild thing, scratching, biting, kicking with her weak legs. A wave of sheer despair smothered her when he restrained her with hardly an expelled breath and she inexplicably began laughing. The Iridonian turned her face to him and covered it with his body, one arm hugging the rest of her to him, but she could not stop giggling hysterically. She tugged at her arm as Mical pulled it toward him and screamed when she felt the needle poke into her vein.

_"Well that took way longer than warranted for a grocery trip,"_ Footsteps echoed up the ramp as Atton's voice resonated.

_"Shut up, Atton."_

_"I'm sensing a disturbance…"_

_"You're always sensing a disturbance,"_ Atton grumbled.

Atton. Atton was always warning her about Kreia and Mical. He did not warn her as much about Bao-Dur, but how could he? But he knew the lot, he had distrusted the others when she had been the blind fool, the naive, ignorant child—if no one else would help her, he would. Yiding yanked her arm away when the disciple released it and shoved as hard as she could at the Iridonian. "Atton! Atton! _Atton!"_

* * *

><p>She sounded like she was dying. Against Kreia's warning to stay away, Atton found himself rushing into the medbay, where Bao-Dur was restraining a wild-looking Yiding who was reaching out to him like a frightened child. Mical was cursing at the glass shards imbedded in her back, the blood staining her sleepclothes even as she thrashed against her captor.<p>

"Atton help me Atton _please—_" And to his horror she began laughing like a maniac, the bursts of sound filled with a fear that was beyond comprehension, "Atton!"

What an odd turnaround. From being scared he was a Sith to wanting him to go to her? Not that Atton was complaining. He brushed by the displeased Kreia and the baffled and flustered Mical, still holding his evil-looking syringe, and pulled the girl from the guilty-looking Bao-Dur.

"Easy babe," He crooned, as Yiding clung tightly around his neck, enough to make breathing difficult. She was still laughing; she was too frightened to express herself properly anymore. "I'm here, I'm here, you're safe, it's okay babe." It felt bizarre, acting this way when he had always been cold and aloof. He was not use to someone depending on him, and he prayed he was doing this right. Odd turnaround, indeed. It seemed like yesterday when he was still sniping at her and being sarcastic just to see how far he could push her, despite all common sense. "Everything's going to be fine. Si—Kreth, what the hell happened to this room?"

"She had a nightmare," Mical said simply, "And I need to get the glass out. She should feel the effects of the drug soon."

"What effects?"

"I gave her a sedative—she was going crazy," Mical glanced at Kreia, "I don't know if taking the Force from her was the best idea."

"I suppose we shall see," The crone replied indifferently, but she seemed to be considering Yiding intently.

"You cut her off from the Force?" Atton barked.

"Temporarily. She has no control over it at this point, and it is not helping her to have it at her disposal. It favors her, obviously, or else she would have fallen victim to all this," Kreia gestured to the destruction.

"I need to get the glass out. She's calming down." Yiding was. Her arms were relaxing around his neck and her breathing was slower. She had gotten quiet, and her body sagged as the tension dissipated from it. Without so much as an "if you please", Mical knelt down behind her and began cutting open the back of her shirt.

Yiding uttered a low keen.

"It's alright babe," Atton said softly as he covered her head with his, "Nothing bad will happen to you."

Her ribs protruded sharply from her back, and Mical clicked his tongue in concern as he began taking out the bits of glass using a pair of forceps. Thankfully the pieces were all rather large, and he removed them carefully, placing them in a plate.

"Ow…" Yiding moaned. Atton rubbed her head soothingly as Mical brushed at her wounds with the Force to send soothing waves through.

She sniffled quietly against Atton's neck after that. He felt new tears trickle between their skin, but at least she was no longer hysterical. Mira and Bao-Dur began picking up the room.

"Looks like it's going to be another trip to restock," Mira sighed, "We're going to have to take a few missions to fund our credits.

"I'm sorry," Yiding was apparently listening, "I couldn't help it."

"We know, sweetie," Mira's voice was filled with compassion, "Don't you worry about a thing, alright?" She gave Atton a warning look, before stating, "Atton will take good care of you."

"There," Mical stood up to get some kolto patches, and Yiding withdrew a little to turn her face up. She looked at Atton with her red-rimmed, watery eyes, and Atton stared back, entranced. He knew he was being studied, scrutinized, and this was probably the first time Yiding ever looked at him with such a penetrating gaze. His heart jumped to his throat as he awaited her verdict.

She closed her eyes and folded herself more surely against him, and did not move even as Mical began placing kolto patches over the cuts on her back.

* * *

><p>The sedatives were strong enough to knock Yiding out eventually, but her fingers clutched at Atton's shirt tightly even in sleep, so he ended up staying with her in the bunks as everyone else cleaned up the medbay. Kreia gave him something like the evil eye when he carried the Exile away, but the old hag said nothing to this, which Atton was thankful for.<p>

"I see what this is," Mira sniped at him, "You seduce the poor girl to get out of cleanup."

"Yeah, that's totally it," Atton scowled at her in indignation, "Because Yiding is totally that kind of girl."

Mira shrugged in concession and left the two of them alone, shutting the doors. Atton knew he dozed for a while; holding a beautiful, if starving girl in his arms was nice, but in that comforting-to-sleepiness kind of way. He woke up when Yiding moved, signalling the drugs wore off. By that point, it was almost dinnertime, and Mira had begun cooking in the mess.

The Exile looked up at him, and he noted her sharp cheekbones and the shadows under her eyes. She was gaunt, and she had not had a chance to build back her weight at all. There was something monstrous about her face, like she was not quite human, but instead of disgust, she inspired pity, and a bit of rage at those who did this to her.

"Hey babe," Atton whispered, adjusting his hold on her. He was cradling her close, allowing her to lie on top of him, thick blanket covering them both. She moved her legs against his and froze for a moment. He adjusted his hold again so she would not feel stifled. "How did you sleep?" _Don't panic don't panic don't panic…_because her legs were now in prime position to hurt him really _really _badly if she started thrashing.

She moved her arms, realized she was not bound in any way, and then relaxed, shutting her eyes and burying her face into his neck. It tickled when she breathed, but he forced himself to bear it so he would not startle her by moving too suddenly.

"Are you hungry?" He asked her softly, a bit surprised at how tender his voice sounded. Just his luck that the moment he showed his soft side, Yiding was far from the best condition to appreciate it. Or perhaps she was actually in the best condition. Force knew this woman had a way of turning his life upside down and making him seem like a sensitive wimp, and remorselessly doing it in a way that made him unable to complain at all. "Mira's cooking again, and you haven't eaten for a while. We should get some stuff in you, beautiful. That way you'll get better faster."

She looked up at him again, her eyes filled with a strange mix of guilt, shame, and hope. "You won't leave me?" She asked softly.

He rubbed her back, mindful of the kolto patches, trying not to show how her words moved him. "I'll be right here, sweetheart."

"Mm," Yiding buried her head against his neck again. "Tired. Hurts."

"I know," Said Atton, "But you need to eat. Then you won't be tired, and you probably won't hurt either. Try to eat something once she's done, alright?"

"I'm sorry, Atton."

"Why?" He stroked her hair, the sweat already dry for a while.

"'M being clingy."

Of all things, really? "Babe, I don't mind if you're clingy…" The joke was lost on her. It was a bad joke though, so he added, "No one does."

"Can't get anything done."

"There's nothing to do, honey."

"Lots of things waiting," She sniffled and he felt warm tears drip onto his neck. "Can't do it. Can't face them."

Understanding what she meant, Atton kissed her brow. Her eyes fluttered closed with an expression resembling bliss. Ah, Jedi and their no-touchy thing. Probably no one had ever kissed her, even like that. "Don't you worry about that. Focus on getting better, and if you're still scared, we'll get someone else to do it. There are three Jedi Masters around, after all. Let them handle the Sith. You and I can take the Ebon Hawk and go on an extended vacation." He was hardly aware of the idea until he said it, but as soon as he did, it sounded like an absolutely fantastic idea.

She giggled, thankfully not out of fear. "Kreia would be mad."

"Screw Kreia." He kissed her on the forehead again. "What does she know? She probably needs to get laid too, though no one would, with that old hag." _Hm, probably not a good idea to mention any sort of laying. _Thankfully Yiding did not seem to have a panic attack at this. "You and me, we can go travel together, try out all sorts of food, go to all sorts of cantinas…" Yiding did not like the noisiness of such places though. "…or restaurants. Let the Jedi Masters handle things here."

"He wouldn't kill me," Yiding said morbidly, sniffling again, "I was all but begging him to. He wouldn't tell me why until the end. He said…he said I was beautiful to him, and he needed to have me with him."

Have her with him? Kreia's cryptic hints suggested that Sion was some guy that had died and then held himself together with the Dark Side. That could not be a handsome blighter.

"He doesn't have you," He said softly, still rubbing her back gently. "You're safe now."

"He'll come after me."

This was true.

"We won't let him get to you," Said Atton, "This time, no going alone anywhere. Except the bathroom. Maybe."

She sniffled again. "Have to meet with the Jedi Masters," She said softly, "Lonna Vash is dead; he killed her in front of me."

"That can wait." Atton had a bad feeling about going to Dantooine with Yiding like this.

"He wanted me to eat her," Yiding shuddered, "I couldn't do it."

Of course not. This was Yiding, the Exile. There was no way she could possibly do something so depraved, even by force.

"He killed her because of me."

"No, honey. He would have killed her regardless." Another kiss to the brow. "None of this is your fault. None of it. And we're all here for you now, you don't have to worry about a thing. If when the time comes you can't face it, then I'll take you away and we'll go off together." He was really warming up to this plan. What would it be like, to run away with the Exile? She would probably wear a dress instead of those plain Jedi robes. Yiding would look marvelous in a dress.

She laughed again. "I thought you didn't like me."

He stared at her, looking at her thin face, and realized she had really believed that.

"I stuck around, didn't I?"

"You didn't seem too happy about it."

"Well I didn't stick around for the other schuttas on this ship." Especially Mical and Kreia. "But it's nothing against you, babe. You…" He hesitated, "You I like. A lot."

She did not seem to understand the significance of this admission, moving her legs to feel his against hers. "I like you too, Atton." She buried her face in his neck again. "Doesn't hurt when you're here."

Atton was so dumbstruck he was not able to form a coherent reply when Mira palmed open the door and whispered if he wanted to have dinner.


	6. Chapter 5

When the Sky Falls

Chapter 5

The Force has a sense of irony. It must have, because never in a million years did Yiding ever imagine that she would be hugged and it would feel so good, nor did she ever anticipate that the person holding her would be Atton Rand, of all people. He had always been biting and annoyed whenever she talked to him, as if she were disrupting his peace of mind simply by being there. As the Exile, weary and heartsick and yet obligated to lead this band of misfits against the dark forces of the galaxy, she had done the only thing she could think of: she left him alone whenever possible. He seemed to be the type of person who liked to have his space, his privacy, and after his explosive indignation when she confronted him about what the twi'leks had said on Nar Shaddaa, she had never tried to talk to him about personal matters.

She made a sorry leader, Yiding knew. On the Ebon Hawk she tended to let others drive her around with their quirks and preferences and demands, because she knew her own judgment could be so poor and really, none of them swore loyalty to her except Visas. Sometimes she wondered if, on Malachor V, she had been less sure she was always right, less secure in her position of authority, perhaps their losses would not have been so great. So she kept silent when she could, gave room when she could, and buried her pain and sorrow so none of the others would have to be burdened with it.

How she had fallen from that pedestal of independence. She was so messed up now that she could not even eat by herself. Yet Atton did not seem to mind. Besides Mandalore, who at least respected her, Atton seemed the most resentful of her out of all the people on the ship, but he said he liked her, and now he was holding her close so she would not panic as the drugs wore off and the warmth of his body felt more and more real, more and more like how she had been stifled and held down as the undead Sith Lord looked on with a cold expression.

"You're doing good, babe," Atton whispered in her ear, "Just a few more sips of broth." Beside the bed, Mira was holding a bowl, eyes intent on the two of them as she waited for Yiding to be ready again.

This was embarrassing. She was not a child. Yiding sniffled and realized she was crying again. _I might as well be._

"Easy," Atton soothed, and he rocked her a little and that felt so good. Was this what she missed as a Jedi youngling? The Order had forbid attachments, and other than a pat on the shoulder or guiding the elbow, she had never experienced such tender touches or embraces. The fear died down, ever-present but no longer as overwhelming. There was just Atton and his warmth, his smell, his concern and his care.

"A few more," Said Mira, lifting the spoon carefully, and Yiding sipped. By the Force, the broth was delicious, even if supposedly it was tasteless. She had not felt her hunger until her first swallow hit her stomach, and all of the sudden she was ravenous. She had finished nearly half the bowl before the drugs had worn off enough for dread to settle in. With any luck, she might finish the whole thing, though Mical voiced doubts about that.

"M-Maybe you should cook more, Mira," She stated after she swallowed, "You're better than me."

"No way, girl," Mira smiled at her, "You're way better than me. You're just really hungry, that's all. We all miss your cooking. You're back on chef duty as soon as you're better, mind you. Unless you don't want to," She tilted her head, "I can definitely take over if you're sick or tired or something."

She sniffled, tears still trickling from her eyes. _Force, I am pathetic._ "I don't mind. Least I could do, for all of you putting up with me."

"Hey," Atton bowed his head and rested his cheek against her temple, "None of that. We don't 'put up' with you. And you're…ill." He kissed her temple. Yiding's eyes fluttered closed even as her heart started in surprise. "We don't mind taking care of you. You'd do the same for any of us. You _had_ done the same already."

"Hm…" Yiding almost purred, feeling sleepy and relaxed again. She sipped some more broth slowly, but was unable to finish the whole thing. Mira waved off her apology and went to the mess to dump the bowl, calling out to Visas and Brianna because it was their turn to wash the dishes. Atton adjusted his arms to cradle her more snugly, and it was very nice. She did not think it would be this nice, especially not after being held down by force, mocked and hurt until she hated herself as much as she prayed for death.

"Get some sleep, beautiful," Atton whispered, "You need a lot of rest."

The words hurt, more than she felt was reasonable, but they hurt and she felt her eyes sting in response.

"'M not beautiful," She mumbled despondently.

"Of course you are. Who told you you weren't?"

"'M not. 'Specially not now."

"Hey," Atton's arms tightened around her, "None of that. You're just as beautiful as you were when I first met you. Remember that?"

She giggled at the memory. She was in her underwear. Good old Atton had made a joke about that, as he always did when something unnerved him.

"Girl, I thought I had died and what's it, gone to the Force? Because I sure wasn't expecting anything like you coming through those doors. Weren't you a sight for sore eyes." He pressed his cheek against hers and it was very nice. "Thought I was hallucinating from hunger, or something. You were too good to be real. Sometimes I still think you are."

He said this in such a gentle tone, part of Yiding was amazed. She never expected Atton to be capable of this, of such tenderness, but everyone had been amazing her lately.

"Thought you hated me for being a Jedi," She murmured, "Even though I'm not." It had been a point she had tried to press on Sion, but he refused to listen or let her go for it. The dark memories made her heart begin to race, and Atton hurriedly made shushing noises as she tensed.

"I know. You're better than a Jedi. Shhhhh…easy now."

But the hurt growing in her heart had festered for years and years and years, and vulnerable and open as she was, she could not keep it in. "I wasn't a good Jedi."

"And that's a good thing, babe."

Hot liquid spilled down her cheeks as she blinked. "I wasn't good enough for them."

"You were too good for them. _They _weren't good enough for you."

"They didn't want me. No one did. Threw me out." She sniffled. She was supposed to go to Dantooine, to understand why they threw her out, but she doubted it would make her feel any less forsaken. "No one wanted me."

"They were stupid," Atton insisted, but the words seemed so meaningless, and Yiding found herself sobbing uncontrollably, despite the fact that she was being pathetic, needy, and for crying out loud, why _would _anyone want her? She lifted her hands to stifle herself, but Atton suddenly turned her around and his lips were on hers.

Yiding froze with shock, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered a similar kiss, a hot demanding tongue invading hers, staking his claim as she tried to turn her head away and failed. This kiss was different, though. It was firm but gentle, and the intent behind it was not scornful or derogatory. She stared at Atton in bewilderment when he finally withdrew, her lips tingling from the contact.

"I want you," He said seriously, his eyes dark and filled with warm fire. He reached up to cup her face. "I want you, if you will have me. And I will _never _throw you out."

* * *

><p>He was taking advantage of her. Atton was aware of enough morals to realize he was taking advantage of her. Jaq was not exactly a practitioner of virtue, but he knew what being a gentleman meant, and this was not it. A gentleman would not exploit the vulnerabilities of someone who had gone through what she had gone through, especially when she was still suffering from serious post-traumatic stress, and he certainly would not kiss her. Yiding was not going to appreciate this when she gets better.<p>

But it was a wonderful kiss. Her lips were even softer than he imagined, her mouth warm and tasting faintly of broth, and most of all, it was her, the Jedi Exile, Yiding, more than a woman or a Jedi and every bit that impossible vision of goodness and light that he had always doubted to exist for most of his life. He never thought he would be able to kiss her. She always seemed so high above him, impossible for the likes of someone like Atton, fool and scoundrel and ex-murderer, to ever worship this way. If he was struck dead right then he would have died happy.

Best of all, she seemed to like it, even if she was confused and flustered. It was adorable, even if it was a bit sad; she was so deprived, and he would think ten years of being away from the Order should have exposed her to all the things her Jedi life sheltered her from. Then again, someone like Yiding should have found someone already, and not be ripe for the picking for someone like Atton. She must have been doing something wrong.

Not that Atton was complaining.

Sith, but he never imagined that he would be permitted to hold her, to watch her sleep, feel her cuddled against him, relaxed and at peace. He definitely would never have predicted that doing so would be such a calm, serene affair. Atton was a man, a virile man, and often reacted as a virile man would. Something about the Exile tempered his desires, though. Maybe it was because she was so sick. He could see bald spots on her scalp where her hair had fallen out because of stress. Her body was bony and small and weak. She never was voluptuous, but now she was all jagged edges and hard points instead of feminine curves. Poor girl.

So he was content to just be near her, and look "innocently" at Kreia when the old hag came to check on them. She had warned him about getting too close, and for a moment Atton was nervous; Kreia knew his past. Kreia could spill his secret, and this tentative dynamic he had established almost randomly with the Exile would be shattered irreparably.

But Kreia loved the Exile, as much as the crazy old bat could. Everyone else was garbage to her, but the Exile must be protected, taught, nurtured at all costs. She probably figured that Yiding's attachment was a temporary thing, a desperate attempt to heal…and she was probably right.

It was the only thought that truly dampened Atton's spirits.

Visas, Brianna, and Mira came to the bunks as the ship's chrono indicated nighttime. Each of the women bent over the Exile to watch her sleep for a moment. Brianna stroked back Yiding's hair, murmuring as she noted the whitened locks. Hopefully, now that Yiding was able to eat and sleep, it will recover its former colors.

"She looks exhausted," The handmaiden noted, "Poor girl."

"This is the most relaxed she has been since the beginning," The Miraluka agreed.

"Guess you'll be joining us tonight, eh?" Mira looked at him wryly, with a bit of warning in her eyes, as usual, "No funny business, Atton."

Indignation on behalf of his honor would be useless on her, considering what she knew, and he certainly was not going to bare his heart in front of the other two, so Atton merely said, "Mind your own damn business."

"You're cradling _my _bounty," Mira returned, though it had been a long time since she staked such a claim, "So if you try anything, you answer to me."

"I think with the three of us, we can ensure he behaves," Brianna stood. "I'm going to prepare for bed."

Yiding slept so deeply she was unaware of this all. It occurred to Atton that Jaq could probably have his way with her and she would not even wake up for that. Once upon a time, this would have been amusing. Now it just disgusted him. He pulled her even closer to him as if to shield her, but really, it was to shield himself from the dark memories of the monster he use to be. Yiding's real warmth was almost like proof that he was no longer that person. No one so evil could hold the embodiment of light like this. No embodiment of light would sleep so trustingly against someone so evil.

He pressed her against him and tried to brand this moment into his brain.

* * *

><p>"We need to discuss what to do next."<p>

Atton had tried waking Yiding up, but she was out like a light, and roused only briefly when he carried her to the mess. She did not want him to leave her, so he settled for holding her while eating with one hand as the others blinked groggily over their own breakfast.

"What do you mean?"

"Lonna Vash is dead, according to Atton, so we have to go to Dantooine at some point and meet with the remaining three masters."

"Uh, not happening," Atton broke in, "They're pricks."

"They might have some way of helping her," Mical pointed out.

"You Jedi don't even know what sex is," Atton snorted, "They have _no _idea what she went through. They can't possibly understand. Short of erasing her memory or something, they can't do anything. Plus they're pricks. Let's not forget that."

"I thought they were fine," Brianna frowned.

"They kicked her out of the Order for some reason or other. They're pricks."

"She's going to meet with them in part to learn this reason," Visas reminded him.

"You think she gives a damn right now?"

"It might bring her some closure," Said Mira.

"It might not," Said Atton, "We can't risk if it doesn't."

The others were silent at this.

"How about this," Mical suggested, "I will meet with them. We go to Dantooine, and I will meet them in her stead. They regard me as a former Jedi, I might be able to convince them to tell me anything she should know, and teach me if there are any techniques the Jedi use to treat her condition."

"Yeah, because Jedi get captured and then escape all the time."

"They do," Mical said grimly, "And it's not pretty, Atton. There have always been those who hate the Jedi. It is likely that victims in the Order are cast out once their use is over with," Atton snorted at this but felt mild approval at how realistic Mical was being, instead of ridiculously naïve like he expected the blonde to be, "But there are times when the mind-healers might be employed to save a fellow member. If such cases exist, I would like to look at them, and it is possible the Jedi Masters can point me in the right direction."

"I really doubt any good would come of this," Atton looked down at Yiding, who was still sleeping soundly, "But alright. If there's a chance, might be good to see to it." He considered the cockpit and his present state. "I'll set the coordinates later."

"Oh please," Mandalore huffed, "It's not like you're the only one who can hold her. Let me."

Atton was _really _unhappy with handing Yiding over to Mandalore, of all people, but the man took her gently enough, and though Yiding fussed slightly and seemed in danger of waking, she slept on once Mandalore settled her. Atton went to the cockpit to enter the coordinates for Dantooine.

When he returned, Yiding was awake and was holding on to a semblance of calm by the skin of her teeth. Mandalore handed her back to Atton quickly.

"Shhhh…I'm here," Atton soothed her.

"This isn't good," Yiding remarked analytically, "I freak out whenever you're not here now."

"Well, it's better than if you freak out whenever I'm here."

"That's true," She conceded, turning her head to look at the others. "I'm alright now."

"You're alright."

"Are you hungry, Yiding?" Brianna asked. "You should try to eat."

"I think I should do that," Yiding agreed.

"Give her some porridge," Mical told Bao-Dur as the Iridonian went to scoop some out of the pot, "Let's see if she can keep it down."

"Let's see?" Atton raised his eyebrows. "What is she, some experiment?"

"At this point, it is a matter of trial and error," Said Mical, "I want her back to normal foods as fast as possible so I _am _pushing a little, but I have to. She's dangerously anemic among other things. I want her back to eating solids quickly."

"He's doing his best, Atton," Yiding interjected wearily.

"His best is not that impressive."

"Well I'm not that impressive either, so I guess we're a match."

Atton had absolutely no clue how to respond to that.

"Are you still in pain?" Mical asked.

"I feel sore all over," She frowned a little, "Being warm helps."

"Yeah?" Atton closed his arms more tightly around her at that.

"But it still feels like my nerves were all scrubbed raw."

"I did a scan, your nerves are fine. It's mainly psychological."

"Great, well I knew I was already going crazy," Yiding chuckled helplessly, and she really did sound a bit mad. Mad, and scared. "Will it go away?"

"It may take time. I'm no psychiatrist."

"What _are _you?" Atton snapped.

"Atton," Yiding called plaintively, and he relented reluctantly.

"Does eating food help?"

"I don't know. I was warm."

"The warm broth helped?"

Yiding nodded. "Atton helped too." She seemed eager to praise him for this. "I don't know. Actually feeling someone helps me tell the difference between what's real and what isn't."

"Do you often feel things that aren't there?"

She nodded more miserably this time. "It feels like they're grabbing me all the time." She began shuddering.

"I think that's enough questions," Atton said curtly.

"Alright," Mical agreed, "Try to finish the whole bowl, if you can," He said as Bao-Dur brought the porridge over. It released hot steam. Yiding sniffed at it, though there was nothing to smell. "I don't want to send your body into shock; it's been without food for a while, but you're dangerously underweight."

Yiding ate painfully slowly, but no one pushed her except herself. She was content to stay with Atton but visibly fought to sound somewhat normal, asking about Dantooine and everyone's plans. Despite having talked about it while she was asleep, Mical assured her that she would not have to meet the masters until she was ready and everyone could use a brief relaxation period.

"It wasn't exactly leisurely looking for you," Mandalore informed her in that militaristic business tone of his, "While we chased after you, that Sion sent his minions back in hordes. Easy as rats are to kill individually, it's something else when they come in such numbers."

Yiding settled snugly against Atton and _ooh…_he hoped she did not feel that. Of all times for that zen feeling to go away while holding her…well there were no good times for it, really, except when she returns his desires but that was a remote possibility at best. He adjusted her and tried not to breathe too hard. _Kreth, _he was pathetic because Yiding's rear was not exactly round right now, nor was her body exactly soft. Maybe he was just desperate…

"I guess I should be glad that I came back to all of you," Yiding remarked fondly, "I've been engrossed with myself lately…"

She really needed to stop this self-deprecation, Atton mused. She was always blaming herself for things.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Brianna teased, "Are you saying our skills are not up to par? Even Atton took down a number of those thugs."

"Hey…" Atton exclaimed, "What are _you _suggesting? Yiding knows I'm way better than those Sith assassins, and in any case I'm definitely better than _Blondie_ here, Force or no."

Yiding suddenly let out an exhale. "I don't feel so good."

Mical hurriedly drew the bowl of porridge away. "Is it your stomach?"

"…I don't know," She reached up to hold her head, "I feel dizzy and…" Her voice weakened.

Mical felt her pulse. "Lay her flat, Atton."

Atton hurriedly carried her to the bunks. Yiding moaned once she was prone, and beads of cold sweat formed on her forehead.

"Calm," Mical urged, pressing both hands to her temples and focusing, "Easy."

"What happened?" Atton demanded after a moment.

Mical took his time in answering. "Digesting food takes energy, and the right coordination. She went into mild shock. She's going to be alright now."

She was asleep. Visas wordlessly drew the covers over her.

"I'll stay with her," Said the Miraluka, drawing up a chair. Atton looked reluctantly at Yiding. He wanted to continue holding her, even if on occasion it could get…awkward. Insisting would look absurd, though.

"I'll head back to the cockpit then," He said with false cheer, walking away before either of the others could say anything.

Yiding's cover was still on his chair. He reclined on it and tried not to miss her warmth in his arms.


	7. Chapter 6

When the Sky Falls

Chapter 6

She was getting better.

Sudden noises did not scare her as much as they use to—at least she did not descend into hysterics at every sound. She could stay by herself for up to twenty minutes without having flashbacks or hallucinations, and when she felt one coming she merely had to seek Atton, who, given her current condition, was allowed to stay aboard the ship instead of going out with the others to restock. Kreia did not give her force sensitivity back, but it was, Yiding reflected, not quite the same as what the Council had done to her; she could sense a block, and she could tear it down if she were really focused, but she allowed it to remain in place in order to prevent a repeat of what happened in the medbay.

Mical started her on rehabilitation to address her atrophied muscles once she was able to eat solid food. She cramped up easily and could stand on her own but could not walk with much coordination. Without access to the Force, her healing was slow, but it was steady, and the crew was patient. She suspected that they were telling the truth when they said they were all in need of a break, even if the Sith continued to loom over their heads and in her mind, but the ship was in hyperspace, headed somewhere, and no one would tell her where. "We're just going to stock up again," Mira told her, gesturing at the medbay that was still somewhat ransacked because broken parts were still broken parts.

Yiding was not so foolish that she would leave it at that, but there were so many things occupying her mind that she figured she probably did not want to know. If they ended up going to Korriban again, she would much rather stay in the dark, although given the state of the planet and its lack of resources, it was unlikely. They could be going to Dantooine, but she could not fathom why this would be kept from her.

Maybe Coruscant. Maybe they were headed to the Jedi Temple there, to seek help. Force knew she needed all the help she could get. She was not entirely sure how she felt about that, so it was probably better that she did not know for sure.

"Five months," She joked to Visas, as Atton arranged her on his lap, "And I'm a complete wreck. You were with Darth Nihilus for years."

Visas shook her head. "My master broke me far more easily than you know. There is no comparison between us."

Yiding shook her head. "I think you underestimate yourself. You lost your entire world. He opened your mind to all that was evil in the galaxy. On top of that, you weren't trained as a Jedi."

"I fell," Visas sounded a little frustrated, which was different from her normal serene tones, "I fell, at the first opportunity."

"You had nothing to fight for," The Exile shook her head.

"I don't think this really matters," Atton broke in. "You're both here now."

Yiding sniffled. "I wish I were stronger than this."

"You're doing fine," He insisted, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She liked being kiss and uttered something like a purr in response. Her body tingled and she felt…loved.

He said he wanted her. He promised he would never throw her away. And with her mind in this state, Yiding never even thought to doubt him.

"Besides, Visas is right," Atton went on, "There is no comparing you two. You are two different people with two different backgrounds." He kissed her again, "We all have weaknesses and it wasn't your fault the Sith found yours. What matters is you're here now." He kissed her once more, on the neck, and chuckled at the blissful noise she made. "You like that?" Another peck. "And that?"

It was like getting bathed with tender love. The stinging in her eyes eased and the restrained sobs dissipated. She wished she could convey just how grateful she was for Atton's care. He kept kissing her, forehead, temple, cheeks, lips, her closed eyes, and it was like floating on a cloud. She fell asleep, helplessly relaxed and somewhat free of pain.

* * *

><p>They reached Dantooine while the Exile was sleeping, as she usually did after rehab. Kreia had been absent from their meetings, but she came out to confront the disciple as he was preparing to head out. She said something to him that Atton could not quite catch, but he heard Mical's response loud and clear: <em>"I think we can both agree that the Exile's well-being is far more important than whatever plans you have."<em>

Mical, standing up to Kreia? Atton was not sure how he felt about the blonde growing a backbone. Then again, usually the Exile was around to defend everyone from the old hag. He tightened his embrace around Yiding and felt her shift in her sleep. She was very relaxed, which touched a part of him he had not known existed.

_"It is not my plans you should worry about,"_ Kreia said cryptically, _"Know this: if any harm comes to the Exile because of you, there will be repercussions such that you cannot imagine."_

_"You waste your breath,"_ Mical said wearily, _"We both know I am not the enemy."_

Atton's eyebrows rose when Kreia did not reply. Did the blonde wimp actually outmaneuver _Kreia?_

_"Are you sure you have to go alone?"_ Brianna's voice echoed softly through the walls, _"What if there are bandits? There might be some crawling."_

_"I have managed to outmaneuver them before, when the Exile found me at the Enclave. I think I can do so again. Besides, the Jedi Masters have become much more cautious. They may trust me because I was an initiate, and never fought in the wars, but they certainly won't trust people they don't know, even with the help of the Force. I'll be back soon, hopefully with some answers."_

Fair enough, Atton thought.

Yiding woke abruptly. She sucked an abrupt intake of breath and her body twitched against his.

"Hm?" Atton turned his attention to her and hoped Mical would stop talking so she would not hear about their plans. It sounded like he was heading to the boarding ramp.

"Umph," Yiding swallowed, blinking. "I don't feel so good."

"…" _Damn it. _"What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I just feel sick."

"Mical's on shore," Atton said to her, "Let me comm. him." Maybe Mical could give instructions as he made his way to the Enclave. The Ebon Hawk was docked a good distance away, across the Khoonda Plains. The blonde would need his wits about him, but that was none of Atton's concern. "I'll be right back, alright?"

She was reluctant, but she settled under the covers as he slid away.

Mical answered his comm. with a resigned air.

_"Give her some warm milk,"_ The blonde said, _"See if she can keep it down. Also it's possible she's going through the initial stages of Force withdrawal now that her body is getting better. It's probably not a good idea to get Kreia to give her the Force back, but you can ask Brianna to use the Force and soothe her a little. Visas might be able to do it too but…I'm not sure how comforting her energies would be."_

Right. Sith apprentice and all that. Brianna it is, even if Brianna was a bi—

_"Also remember to add sugar."_

Yiding, Atton learned after several days of feeding her despite her lack of appetite, had a sweet tooth. It was such an endearing quirk, he wondered why he had never noticed it before. Maybe she had repressed this side of herself, since Jedi always seemed to be repressing things. Once her health improves, Atton planned on getting her to indulge in things like this. Maybe even other things, though honestly she would not be Yiding if she did go along with him.

Still, a sweet tooth. It made Yiding seem like such a girl. They often forgot that she was, being younger than most of them and all. Mical was the only one younger than the Exile. The only thing that sucked about this was that Mical knew this before Atton did, though considering Mical use to be her playdate of sorts when she was a padawan, it probably could not be avoided.

_Force._ How different would his life have been like, if he had met her before the war? He probably would have had been a Jedi, being Force-sensitive and all, but even so, his mind spun with the lost possibilities. He would never have been a Sith assassin. He would never have murdered so many, even if many had deserved it. Most of all, he would have been closer to her, closer than that blonde, and when she withdrew from the war and was cast out by the Jedi he would have been right by her side. Yiding would not have had to go through her exile alone in her solitude, punished with ignominy, constantly facing criticism and blame from those who knew her past. He would have been there to support her, to take care of her, to protect her, and perhaps, to hide her, so this great burden the Exile now carried would never have fallen on her shoulders. He would have been worthy of her, having never worked for Revan, having never committed the atrocities he did. He would not have had this terrible secret Kreia was able to bribe him with, a skeleton in his closet that even now he feared Yiding would one day find. Most of all, and perhaps he was overestimating himself, but Yiding would be happy, not sad and melancholic, still hurting from both her part in the war and the decade-long friendless wandering.

Brianna threw him a wry look but did not comment much when he told her to help Yiding. Atton reflected that he probably had been a bit harsh with the handmaiden. The half-Echani had been really annoying when she first boarded the ship, but Yiding had curbed her harshness greatly with her own grace and elegance, and sometimes the fair-haired woman was even good company. He went to the kitchens to heat the milk.

Yiding seemed to feel much better by the time he went back to the bunks. She raised her arms out to him to request a hug, but since Atton was holding a bowl of warm milk, it was a bit inconvenient.

"Can you hold this bowl for a second?" He asked Brianna, hoping the handmaiden would not suddenly take issue over this.

Brianna accepted the milk with a forbidding scowl. "What is this?"

"Sweet milk," Atton lifted Yiding, "Blondie's suggestion."

"I wish you would get along with him," Said the Exile as Atton took the bowl back, "You shouldn't bully him all the time."

"What," Atton paused, wondering if the brat tattled on him or something, "What did he say to you?"

"He didn't say anything, but it's not like you try to hide it," She replied, and she almost sounded like her old self again, though more tired than usual, and also more frank. "It doesn't really suit you. You're older than him and you're supposed to be mature, but he's constantly having to give you leeway so you wouldn't embarrass all of us."

"Oh," Atton yanked one arm away since the other one was holding the milk, "So I embarrass you, do I?"

He would have continued giving in to the indignation—it was what the old Atton Rand would have done; get angry, so people would not pry into his secrets, the reasons behind his actions and lack thereof, and also prevent others from simply getting too close. Yiding's alarmed look stopped him, however, and she suddenly paled, a ghastly grey color that made her look ill and weak.

_Damn it._ She was still fragile. How could he have let her normal tone of voice make him forget that? The Exile was in no shape to handle the old Atton Rand.

"No," Tears pooled quickly in her eyes, "N-no I—I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad—I-I-I-I didn't know what I was saying—" She was starting to panic.

_Way to go, you fool,_ Atton thought, feeling like a schutta, and then suddenly alarmed because that mental voice sounded like a mix of his own and Kreia's. Was she infiltrating his mind again? He could not tell, but he had no time to figure out because Yiding was rapidly losing it.

Brianna was giving him a glare that could probably skewer him if eyes were capable of such things. She snatched the milk away as Yiding began whimpering in desperation.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Atton turned her face around and pressed his lips to her forehead, "Shhh…I'm not angry, I'm not mad, it's alright, don't cry."

Yiding took a shuddering breath and made a clear effort to calm down.

"I think you should go," Brianna said coldly.

"No," The Exile grabbed Atton's shirt, "N-no, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking—"

"Hey," Atton kissed her again, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here." Force, he felt like a complete schutta.

It took a while for her to fully relax again, but eventually she downed the cooling milk and fell asleep like an infant.

"You better watch yourself," Brianna warned him. "If you harm her, I don't care how dependent she is on you right now. I will make life very miserable for you."

It was kind of laughable that this half-Echani harlot thought she could outmaneuver Atton, but frankly if he hurt Yiding in any way, he would probably spare Brianna the attempt.

"Get the hell out of here and let her sleep," Atton snarled instead, wrapping a protective arm around the Exile.

* * *

><p>She was back in the créche.<p>

They were painting, to stimulate creativity and imagination in the minds of the younglings. She was using red, to paint roses, swirling the little whirls with her finger and getting red all over herself. Red specks splattered on her cheeks, over her lips. It tasted coppery, metallic.

_Submit._

All the other toddlers were bleeding. The Créche Master, Sion, reigned over the dark classroom, electric rod in hand.

_Finish it. Finish it and they will be spared._ Lonna Vash's heart lay on a plate beside her painting of roses, pale pink and bloodless. Hard flesh thrust into her tiny body and the pain made dark spots dance in front of her eyes.

_Finish it or else I will tear into another, Exile._ The toddlers were all painting, but most of them were making simple swirls and streaks. Sion loomed over another child whose face she could not make out, no matter how hard she stared. What was her name? She could not remember.

_No, I can't. Can't even begin._

The youngling screamed, and everyone else started screaming, paints of every shade of red spilling onto the floor in dark stains. Dark spikes dug into her brain. She felt the might of Sion's will crushing into her mind.

_Submit._

Roses. She had run out of paint. Blood ran down from her pudgy wrists. She used it to finish the drawing. Pain, hot as fire, cold as ice, hard as steel, shot up between her legs one final time, deep into her core. She felt her womb freeze and burn.

_No. I can't._ She looked at the dead child. _I'm sorry._

"Hey," Atton's voice murmured, "Hey, it's just a dream."

Yiding opened her eyes. The abrupt change of surroundings left her disoriented and she stayed still for a moment, feeling Atton's warm hand rubbing her back soothingly. Ebon Hawk. The créche was long gone. She was the last Jedi, even though she was not.

"Babe?" Atton lifted her face with his other hand, caressing her cheek, "Stay with me, beautiful. You're safe."

She was not even aware that she was afraid until her heartrate began slowing. Atton's body heat felt real next to hers, and his scent was all around her, very masculine but devoid of blood and sweat.

"Hey," Atton said again, softly, as if afraid if he spoke too loud he would spook her, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head quickly.

"Alright," Atton said gently, "No talking. No thinking about it. Are you hungry?"

After that? Not a chance.

She suddenly heard rapid footsteps, the gait a lot like Kreia's when she was in a hurry. Atton also tensed, and his arms froze around her as he listened. Kreia murmured something, and then there was the telltale sound of a lightsaber being turned on. Then the humming started.

Yiding's heartrate shot up again. Atton clutched her to him.

"Easy, babe, it's alright," He looked around, "I'm going to go see what it is, alright? Maybe some animal got on board."

Yiding doubted it. She fisted his clothes for a moment before letting go, blinking back tears. Atton did not look at her as he gently maneuvered away, face turned toward the door to the bunks. He unhooked his blaster from his belt and crept near the door. Yiding sat up unsteadily, feeling terribly feeble. How was she going to help at all? She could barely stand on her own!

Atton opened the door and looked out with his blaster pointed. He then turned around. "Wait here," He ordered, before disappearing.

_Like hell!_ Yiding looked around desperately. There was Visas' old vibrasword from when they did not have the materials to make a lightsaber yet, and she struggled to her feet and staggered to retrieve it. Turning to the door, she fought back a wave of paralyzing fear. She had suffered at the hands of the Sith, but she was not going to allow the rest of the crew to fall into their power all because she was too scared to face them herself. Her knees buckled and she grabbed at the edge of the bunk to steady herself. _Oh Force,_ She thought desperately, _What am I going to do?_

There were no other lightsabers, and in fact, Kreia seemed to be fighting…women? She staggered into the hall to hear Atton's blaster shooting. Where was her own blaster? She use to have two of her own before her return from exile, and then she discarded most of them or redistributed them to the others after she claimed her lightsaber from Atris. A flash of white caught her eye and she froze.

Handmaidens.

Why were they fighting Kreia?

"Stay back!" One of them cried, and Yiding realized she was talking to Brianna. "We are here to take the old one. This is none of your business!"

Fear clogged her throat, but it was because of it that she fought to overcome it and speak out. "You have intruded on my ship. State your business."

The five handmaidens turned. Atton swore lightly under his breath. Kreia held her lightsaber at the ready, but did not attack. Yiding could sense everyone's eyes on her like a heavy crushing weight. She must have presented quite a vision, starved, disheveled, dressed in her nightgown and barely standing straight. Even as she glared back, she could feel her legs starting to hurt, the pain shooting up and down the bones.

"We are here to arrest the old woman," Said one of the handmaidens, "For her Dark Side practices, on behalf of Mistress Atris."

"You have no authority to arrest anyone," Yiding spat, "Get off my ship or I will end all of you."

"How dare you!" Another sister exclaimed, "You have gotten bold, _Exile._ Running around on your own has made you forget what it means to be a Jedi!"

"I am not a Jedi, and neither are any of you. Neither the Jedi nor your precious mistress has any authority on _my ship._ Get off _now_ or I _will _kill all of you."

"She's not going to cooperate."

"She's in league with her then!"

And just like that, the handmaidens attacked.

She did not hear Atton's blaster fire, nor the hum of Kreia's lightsaber, or even Brianna's shout. All she knew was that she saw people move suddenly, and the fear she had been repressing exploded inside her. She needed to get out, because she had been discovered. They were coming for her, and her arm was broken and her leg was broken she was exhausted and completely broken, but she had to get out and she exerted what was left of her will to fight for whatever she was worth. The Force flung in all directions. The Force did not answer her call. She grabbed onto anything she could find, screaming, and the vibrosword in her hand flashed and met soft resistance.

_I can't get out!_ She had to try! She had no idea where she was, or how the hallways turn, but she could feel the thick of the Dark Side and all she knew was that she had to pick one direction and pray it was the right one. Everyone was moving, lightsabers were flashing, Sion's presence dug into her mind, willing her muscles to freeze. She only fought harder, heedless of the blood that splattered into her eyes and burned her corneas, shadows and flickering lightsabers, the pain in her body. Keep going! Draw on the Force for strength, even if it was filled with darkness, because there had to be a way out and she will die trying so help her—!

"_Yiding!_"

She was tiring, she could not tire, no, her arms and legs, they refused to move. No, no no no no no, she could not falter! No, they would not kill her if she stopped—she had to make them kill her, it was the only way they would stop! She had to get away! She had to get out, or die trying!_ No!_

She screamed.

"Yiding!" Atton's face loomed in front of her, and he was holding her head tightly and pressing her forehead against his. "Yiding, it's alright, it's alright, you're safe now. It's over. It's over."

Shuddering, Yiding took stock. She was on the Ebon Hawk, the mess. There was Atton, his warmth, his smell, his breath, his face. She took another shaky breath and uttered a low keen.

"It's okay," Atton gathered her tightly and rocked her, pressing her face against his neck, "It's over now. You did good. You did good."

Brianna was next to her, holding on to the hand that held a bloodstained vibrosword. The half-Echani pried it slowly from her grip.

"It's not her fault," Atton said over Yiding's head.

"I know it's not." Brianna's voice was cold. "It's theirs. They were never good at listening. They reap the consequences of their own blindness."

_What…what happened?_ Yiding tried to turn her face around, but Atton quickly stopped her. She whimpered, getting scared. What happened? What happened when she had that flashback?

"It's okay, babe," Atton was still rocking her, "Just calm down, that's it." He trapped her head against his shoulder and wrapped his other arm around her more fully. "It's okay."

She inhaled, but could only smell Atton's scent.

"I'm sorry, Brianna," Said Mira.

"Don't apologize to me," Brianna spat, "As far as I'm concerned, they deserved it."

They?

The handmaidens!

With a jerk, Yiding tore herself from Atton's grasp. Five handmaidens sprawled over the floor of the mess, unmoving, parts of them detached from the rest of their bodies. Dark red stained the metal floors, brilliant crimson on the whites of their robes. Brianna herself was clutching at a wound, but the others were not moving. She looked at the vibrosword that was on the floor.

"Oh Force," Yiding wheezed in panic, "Oh Force, someone get Mical—oh _Force _what happened? What have I done—"

"Yiding," Brianna turned to her, eyes filled with concern, "Don't worry about it—"

"Brianna what happened? Did I do that to you?" Yiding reached out, and the handmaiden came closer to hold her arms, "Are you alright? Oh _gods_ what have I _done?_"

Brianna grabbed her face and pressed her forehead close the way Atton had done. "You were defending yourself," She said to her seriously, "They didn't take you seriously and this was their comeuppance."

"Oh Brianna," Yiding clenched her teeth but a sob escaped her nonetheless, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—I don't know what happened I'm _so sorry—"_ The words seemed so pale and inadequate that she choked them off and just sobbed helplessly.

The handmaiden grabbed her and hugged her tightly. "No. _I'm _sorry. I was supposed to protect you, to help you. I failed. I couldn't even stop my own sisters from scaring you, from hurting you—look, you're bleeding too—this isn't your fault. It's okay, it's okay."

_No, it's not okay,_ Yiding thought in despair. How could it be okay? She was a complete crackpot, killing people simply because they spooked her. She killed Brianna's own _sisters_ because she was so barking mad. How could it be okay? How could anything be okay ever again?


	8. Chapter 7

When the Sky Falls

Chapter 7

Mystery solved. The Exile was able to escape from Darth Sion despite her injuries because apparently she just _bleeding could._ Atton had a feeling that if he had been unfortunate enough to still be a Sith assassin and attempt to torture her, he would probably be among the first to be cut down by her in a craze. He knew fear could do things to people, and they always said fear led to the Dark Side, but he had no idea that it could literally turn people into killing machines.

Yiding was inconsolable. She became sick almost instantly afterwards and locked herself in the refresher to cry. At this point she had probably shed more tears than all of Jaq's former captives put together, which was troubling because Jaq was good at what he did. They listened to her as they cleared out the handmaidens, with Bao-Dur contacting the Khoonda administration to report the intrusion and the subsequent "accidents". Brianna rolled up her sisters as if she had not spent her entire life with them, her face an inscrutable mixture of resignation, frustration, and hatred.

"This was not her fault," Said Visas, "Your sisters were foolish."

"I _know_ that, Sith. I don't need _you _to tell me the obvious."

"You do not seem as unbothered as you made yourself appear to the Exile," Noted the Miraluka.

"Of _course _I'm bothered. You have ears, don't you? This incident will set her recovery back who knows how long, and the most idiotic thing is that the insipid _pilot_ is the only one she lets near her in the first place," Atton bit back the comment that welled up at that because frankly, he found that situation confusing himself, "And now none of us can go near the refresher. She's hurting, and we can't help her. All because my sisters did not grow half a brain in between any of their skulls."

"Or perhaps you hate the Exile, for being wounded enough to lash out at your sisters."

Brianna snapped, lunging at the former Sith apprentice. Only Mira managed to prevent her fist from colliding.

"You know _nothing_!" The handmaiden raged, "You think I can ever hate Yiding?"

"Enough!" The bounty hunter yelled, "Both of you, stop! This is seriously hard enough for everyone already!"

"Would that I have directed her sword at _you _instead!" Brianna spat, "I should have let her cleave your veiled head right off your shoulders and spared us all the danger of your corruption!"

"Girls, stop fighting! She can _hear _all of you, for crying out loud!" Mira released the handmaiden when her struggles ceased. Visas looked on calmly as she always did.

Atton's comm. link beeped. It was Mical.

_"Atton, get off Dantooine! They're going to—"_ The disciple's voice abruptly cut off.

"Kreth!" Atton blinked. "Blondie! Blondie are you there?" What did "They're going to" mean anyway? Were the Jedi Masters planning something? And where was he supposed to go?"

Kreia instantly stood from her seat at the table. "We have to get off planet, right now."

"What?"

"You heard me," The old woman sneered, "Get off planet this instant, pilot, or there will be consequences."

"But where are we supposed to go?"

"Anywhere," Said Kreia, "I expected you to be more eager to comply with this, Fool. You were always anxious to seize any opportunity to abandon the Little Jedi somewhere. This is your chance."

"Now wait a second," Mandalore cut in, "What about these bodies—"

"Roll them down the ramp," Kreia said dispassionately, "As long as they are off ship, it does not matter what happens to them. They are dead, after all."

Atton was hurrying to the cockpit and punching in coordinates. Where to go? Nar Shaddaa? Telos? It was one of those two, because the others were out of the question. He was certainly not taking Yiding to Korriban, and Onderon was in the middle of a civil war. Nar Shaddaa had less of a chance of them getting arrested somehow, and he wanted to help Yiding keep a low profile while she was in the state. The planet was not exactly friendly towards those who were traumatized by the Sith, but Atton knew the place well and between him and Mira, they could take care of her.

"Hurry up!" Mira shouted, "Hurry up, Atton! Get this hunk of metal off the ground _now!_"

Atton pulled the levers and heard someone firing blasters—it sounded like one of Mandalores, and then the exit ramp sealed.

"What the hell?" He yelled back, "What was going on back there?"

Kreia appeared behind him. "Get us into hyperspace."

From the screen, Atton could see the figures of the three Jedi masters below as the Ebon Hawk took off to the skies. Notably, Mical was not with them.

_What happened?_ He frowned, but did not turn the ship around. Blondie will just have to survive on Dantooine somehow. _Your fault for telling me to leave,_ He thought remorselessly, but mused that they really could use a healer right now to treat Yiding's mild injuries. It was not enough to prevent him from tugging the hyperspeed lever, however, and with a jolt, they left Dantooine behind them.

* * *

><p>She screamed like she was being tortured minutes after they entered hyperspace.<p>

By the time Mira and Atton unlocked the refresher, Yiding was close to having a seizure. Kreia rushed in with him, splaying her gnarled hands over Yiding's forehead as the pilot gathered the young woman into his arms. She was begging, but her words were incoherent, and all Atton could decipher was that she felt someone was touching her, grabbing at her, and she was fighting with everything she had, but her limbs kept jerking just short of where they ought to land, as if restrained somehow, even though they were not.

His touch should have aggravated her, but she took a gasping breath and stilled. For a while he held her as she panted for breath, hairline and collar soaked with sweat and face wet with tears. Brianna took a place at her side on the floor and held a palm to her forehead near Kreia's, her face pinched in concentration.

"Look, old lady," Mira remarked, "Isn't there anything you can do with your fancy Force powers or whatever they are?"

"No one has gone through what she has gone through with their minds intact," Kreia answered simply, "Either they fall or they go mad."

"She's not exactly sane right now."

"Her mind is intact," Said Kreia, "Mentally, she is severely injured, but her will has been spent on resisting the efforts of her Sith captors. I know of no way to help her because she is the first of her case. It appears time is the only thing we can give her."

"Great," Atton snarked, "You're being krething useful lately."

"Don't do that," Yiding wheezed, still sounding like she was dying, but the words were coherent, "Don't provoke her,"

Atton tightened his hold, acknowledging that Yiding might be traumatized but she was _not _crazy. Fine. He will just ignore Kreia from now on. "Just calm down, you're alright. You're alright."

"I'm not alright, damn it!" Yiding's voice rose to a shriek and she sobbed continuously, "Force damn it all! I thought it would be over! I wanted it to be over—" Her words were smothered as Atton tucked her into him. Her sobs became screams, angry and desperate, and Atton found himself looking at Kreia. Seriously, there were no Jedi tricks for this kind of thing?

"Her mind is too strong," Kreia stated when Mira looked at her as well, "Or else I would Force persuade her to calm. We will have to resort to physical means."

"Bao," Mira called the Iridonian, "I don't know which one's the sedative."

Mical had graciously placed the sedative out on the counter. Bao-Dur loaded the syringe and gestured for Atton to turn Yiding around so her arm could be exposed.

Yiding started hyperventilating at the sight of the needle.

"No, no, don't, please," She quaked in Atton's arms, a mess of tears and sweat, "No no no no no no _no!" _She shrieked and started thrashing, "No please! _No!_"

"It's just a sedative," Bao-Dur tried to soothe her, as Kreia knelt down and firmly held the arm in place with her gnarled hands.

"No, no please," Yiding collapsed in defeat, exhausted from her extended fit, "Please, no, I'm alright, I don't need it, I swear, I—" Atton turned her face toward him.

"Focus on me," He said to her, looking into her tear-filled eyes. They were beautiful, he noted, even as they were puffy red and shining with panic, but the sparkling drops clung to her long eyelashes and reminded him of dewdrops on flower petals. "Focus on me. Breathe with me, babe. In, out."

"No—"

"Focus on me. In. Out." She obeyed. "That's right, beautiful. You're doing great."

She whimpered when Bao-Dur injected the sedative. They seriously needed to get some pills that did the same thing without needles once they landed on Nar Shaddaa. Why did Mical not use one of those instead? Probably because the effects took too long.

"You're doing great, babe. We're so proud of you. That's it. That's it."

"Atton…" She moaned, but it was over. Bao-Dur pressed a swab over the tiny wound. Kreia released her arm.

"Look, you're done. You'll feel better soon."

She continued to sob, but eventually quieted as the drugs took hold. Exhausted, she soon passed out against Atton.

"This cannot continue," Visas said grimly. Atton cradled her securely as the others considered the situation in solemn silence.

"Why were the three Jedi masters coming at us with lightsabers?" Mira asked.

"Blondie apparently messed up communications," Atton said wryly.

"Fools," Kreia hissed, her voice full of venom, "Cowards. It is fortunate, perhaps, that the Exile is in no shape to confront them herself, for no doubt things would have gone a lot worse than they had today. The Little Jedi never had any hope of receiving aid from the likes of them."

"What do you mean?" Brianna asked. "Were they…were they trying to kill us?"

"You have another explanation for why they were coming at the ship with lightsabers?" Atton asked wryly.

"I thought, perhaps, my sisters…"

"They are afraid," Said Kreia, "Afraid of what the Exile is capable of. Rather than see her for what she is, they see only how she presents a danger to them." She knelt by the sleeping Yiding. "Pity that one such as her must be at the mercy of those far less deserving."

Atton kept his mouth shut. There really was no point in arguing with the old woman, even if she just insulted him—he knew it.

"So now what?" Brianna asked. "We went through all the trouble of rounding them up so they could help her defend against the Sith. Now she's indisposed and they're trying to kill her and Mical is trapped on Dantooine, and we can't do anything except wait, apparently."

"There's Atris…" Bao-Dur trailed off, sounding less than certain himself.

"Atris wouldn't lift a finger," Brianna spat, "She's been waiting behind her fortress all these years. You think she will help the Exile when the three other masters just tried to kill her? They all banished her from the Order together!"

"What about during her exile?" Visas asked, "She has wandered for ten years, without being detected."

"She remained undetected because she was close to no one," Kreia replied.

Atton found himself a bit dumbfounded at this. He could not imagine Yiding remaining cold and aloof like he did. She cared too much, and people inevitably cared about her. Perhaps she was open with them and closed before. Only Yiding could say for sure.

"Where are we headed?" Mandalore asked, as T3 beeped in concern.

"Nar Shaddaa."

"Why are we headed for Nar Shaddaa?"

"The masters are looking for her, we're hoping to get lost there, I figured it's as good a place as any." Atton adjusted Yiding in his arms.

"It is fine," Kreia turned away, "Despite its appearance, the planet is likely the least hostile for us. Perhaps being surrounded by those equally unfortunate will help the Exile recover from her own ordeal. She has retained that instinct to help others from before her exile." This was said with some contempt. "Healing is a far more altruistic process than we assume. She may improve if she focuses on her old yearnings."

"Her instinct to help others is what made her strong enough to face the Sith," Brianna protested.

"Yes…" Kreia drawled, "One's weaknesses often can be exploited by the self to become powerful, and one's strengths can also be overturned to destroy their carrier. Let us hope the latter will not be the case."

* * *

><p>It was ridiculous and she was <em>sick <em>of it. She was sick of herself, she was sick of how her mind kept playing tricks on her, and she was sick of how everyone was tip-toeing around her like she were made of glass. She was sick of how she had to sleep so much, still could not walk properly, could not be trusted with the Force, and now Mical was gone and no one else on the Ebon Hawk understood her past, understood how much finding the Jedi Masters again meant to her, understood _her_, and how she could not leave Atton's side for more than five minutes now without feeling like the cell walls were closing in on her and hard metal chains were chafing into her wrists and ankles and neck and everywhere in between.

"Why is Mical not here?"

"Something came up, sweetie, we're not entirely sure what."

"Well why are we in hyperspace if we're not sure what's going on?" Yiding's temper was stretched tight like a pulled crossbow. "Where the hell are we headed? Where the hell did we just depart from?"

"We've just left some planet, you probably never even heard of it. We're heading to Nar Shaddaa."

"Why are we heading to Nar Shaddaa?" Another thing Yiding was sick of was how she was now out of the loop in everything. "What are we going back there for?"

"There are people after us." Atton was very patient in comparison to her. "Nar Shaddaa is a good place to get lost in, remember?"

"I don't want to get lost! I'm fine! I'll be fine, I just need more rehab, which _Mical _was supervising and now he's suddenly gone and we just _left him!_"

"Look, it wasn't my idea—"

"Then whose was it?"

Atton took a deep breath, as if to reign in his own temper. "It was Blondie's, alright? Look, babe, I'm sure the kid can take care of himself—"

"Would you use his _name?_ Why does no one call each other by their names here? Visas is Visas, not _Sith_, Kreia is Kreia, not 'Old hag' or 'Old lady' or whatever conjucation, and Mical is Mical!" Some part of Yiding's mind was aware that she was being unreasonable, irrational, but it was a small part and paled in comparison to the sheer frustration growing in her stomach, boiling and boiling and unable to be released into the Force. "And my name is not 'babe'!"

"Alright—"

"And it's _not _Jedi, or Exile either! I'm not freaking in exile right now! And I'm not a bloody Jedi!"

"Okay okay, shhhhh…" Atton cradled her head, pressing kisses onto her face, and reluctantly, she felt soothed. "I know, ba—Yiding."

As rage simmered down, despair welled back. She was tired and the sedatives kept her from panicking but they could not dampen the sheer hopelessness that was overwhelming her. Force, she was a mess, she was a complete mess and it seemed like another lifetime when she had been whole and untainted instead of the wild animal she had become.

"I want it to go away," She sobbed, "I wish it never happened! I wish I never came out of exile, I wish they had killed me at the trial!"

"No, no no no, Yiding, no, don't say that—"

"I should have died on Malachor, I should have died at the first battle! What did I know of war? Why am I alive?"

"No, Yiding," Atton held her tightly and rocked her, "Don't say that, don't think that."

The sedatives made it impossible for her fit to last very long, and she fell quiet minutes later, staring listlessly at the walls of the bunk and listening to the quiet footsteps of the other members of the crew.

"Why are you all still here?" She asked at last.

"Because we care about you."

She sniffled, feeling miserable. "I haven't been good to all of you. And now we're heading to Nar Shaddaa, because I'm too weak to take care of myself, and you're all being dragged with me."

"Hey, you're not weak. You're the strongest person I know. No one else survived the Sith the way you did. They did a number on you. We understand."

"Visas isn't all messed up like me."

"Visas is messed up far deeper than you, honey—Yiding. She's too messed up to even lash out like you are doing now."

Guilt washed over her. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me."

"It's not your fault. We understand." He kissed her cheek, and then her mouth. "Lash away. It's better than keeping it all inside." He brushed away a tear with his thumb, his skin warm and callused. "Pfft, we're facing the Sith without thinking twice. Of course we can handle a few tantrums from you. It's been a long time coming, I think."

A long time coming. Her heart had been weeping for the last ten years. "I want to see the masters. Master Kavar. I use to look up to them _so much._"

"Shhh…" Atton quieted her, and she fell silent, spent.

"Is Mical going to be okay?" She asked after a while.

Atton uttered a rumble that might have been a groan. "Kid survived this long. If the J—well, I think he'll be alright. He'll be back to stick his nose where it's not wanted soon enough."

"Why do you hate him so much?"

"He just rubs me the wrong way."

"He's young." Yiding poked him. "You're supposed to set an example."

Atton choked. "Who, me? Really?"

"You're the older brother. Just like I'm the older sister. You're not supposed to _only _pick on him, especially when he's done nothing to deserve it."

"You haven't met too many siblings, have you?" Something she said apparently made him happy, though. "So is that how you view the Ebon Hawk? You're the older sister to everyone?"

"Well, not everyone."

"Oh? Who aren't you a sister to?"

"Kreia."

The look on Atton's face was priceless. Yiding found herself giggling as if she had not spent the last few hours alternating between screaming like a lunatic and weeping like a child, interspersed with silent moments when she was just too tired to do either. "You deserved that," She poked him again.

"Yeah," He smiled at her, "I did."

She snuggled against him, feeling much better after laughing. "I'm worried about Mical though. I did wrong by him, a long time ago." Tears welled in her eyes again, but she was calm. "He looked up to me, and I was too young…too immature to handle that responsibility. Sometimes I think the Order threw me away because the Force was punishing me for throwing _him _away. He wanted to be my padawan, but I was still a padawan myself. I didn't want him, and then…I feel like I owe him."

"That's ridiculous. You don't owe him anything. It's not like he had to be _your _padawan. You weren't even supposed to train him in the first place."

"But I was supposed to be there for him." Yiding tried to make him understand. "I was…the Jedi don't encourage attachments, but I was like his older sister to him. He depended on me, and I let him down."

Atton was quiet for a while.

"I let a lot of people down."

"No," Atton rubbed her back comfortingly, "I think Blondie doesn't blame you at all." Calling him by his name was apparently too much for the pilot. "Besides, you're not supposed to be there for _everyone._ What would be left of yourself, hm? That's your problem, you know. You're always trying to be there for everyone. It's time someone's here for you for a change. What do you think?"

"Well, you're here," Yiding looked up at him.

His eyes held a particular warm light as he met her gaze. "Yeah, I am."

She blinked, and felt wet warmth trickle down her cheeks. "And you won't throw me away."

"I will never throw you away."

She tucked herself against him tightly, shutting her eyes as she felt Atton lift a hand to stroke her hair. "Good, because I won't live long if you leave me."

His arms tightened around her. "I will never leave you," He swore. "Trust me when I say that."

She did. And it felt good. She felt a part of that darkness in her leave. "Even if I'm crazy and weak and ruined?"

"You are _not _crazy or weak or ruined—but even if you become old and scraggly and snore all the time, I'm keeping you," Atton pulled back to grin at her, "And you won't get rid of me that easily."

She giggled again, feeling happier than she had in days, and let Atton wipe her cheeks dry again before falling asleep once more.


	9. Chapter 8

When the Sky Falls

Chapter 8

"Well, here we are again," Said Mira. Atton was carrying Yiding pick-a-back. "Can't say I missed this place."

"How long should we stay here?" Yiding asked. "We still have to get Mical from this planet I've never heard of."

At least she retained her sense of humor. "First thing we're going to do is try to establish some kind of connection," Atton promised, "Though given that he might be traced, we should first settle you somewhere secure before doing so. You alright up there?"

She adjusted the cloak over them. "We look like a two-headed alien."

Definitely had her sense of humor. She seemed happier after that talk, more secure that at least Atton wanted her and was not leaving her, and Brianna had done a good job of convincing her that there were no hard feelings. _I was not close to them anyway,_ She had said, _In fact, one could argue that they hated me. I was proof of our father's adultery._

"You two totally rock as a two-headed alien," Mira opined. T3M4 whistled in agreement from next to her.

Kreia was not impressed. "We should move. It would not do to dawdle here."

As annoying as the old hag was, she was right. Yiding rested her cheek against Atton's. She was very soft there, and Atton indulged a bit and rubbed with his own.

"Why are we abandoning the Ebon Hawk?" She asked after they left the ship and were navigating their way through the gritty streets.

Abandoning the Ebon Hawk was Kreia's idea. Given her temper and her powers, no one was in the mood to question her, and she did not see fit to explain things to them not-Exiles. For Yiding, though, she indulged in a bit of explaining, though Atton sensed she was still keeping secrets for the young woman's benefit.

"There are people after us. We are here to get lost. They have seen the ship and it would not do for us to be on it when they come, at least for now."

"What if they steal the ship?"

"They are not interested in the ship," Was all Kreia was willing to say. It was all Yiding was willing to hear also.

"I wish I were this tall," She said conversationally. Atton did not have the heart to hush her; she was not too loud, and talking had recently become her way of keeping calm and relaxed. "The view is great up here. I'm towering over everyone. You men have all the good stuff. You're bigger, stronger, and you get to enjoy sex more. It's so unfair."

Atton managed to keep his footing, which was more than could be said for Mandalore. Even before her capture, Yiding had never mentioned such things so bluntly. "Women enjoy sex too," He said a little lamely, "Just ask Mira."

"What?" The bounty hunter was as astounded as Atton, "Wait, why am I the expert on this?"

"Well I wasn't going to ask _her_," Atton tilted his head at Kreia, causing Yiding to giggle. Kreia, for her part, simply ignored all of them, though he had a feeling she was paying great attention to everything Yiding was saying.

"Sex hurts," The Exile declared. Maybe it was a pain she was trying to dispel, some subconscious attempt to reveal what had happened to her. "I don't know how the twi'leks do it. Maybe they're made differently, but I didn't like it all."

"Sweetie," Despite protesting about her expertise, Mira focused on the task at hand, "What you went through wasn't sex."

Someone should be yelling by now—namely Kreia or Brianna, because the situation was so surreal. Were they seriously talking about this right now?

T3M4 beeped, puzzled. Everyone ignored the droid.

"It sure seemed like the same thing," Yiding noted, "And _they _enjoyed it. A lot." Her voice was steady, but Atton felt a wet tear slide down between where their faces touched. Five months, he thought wearily. Five months of anguish. It had felt like an eternity to them; it must have felt even longer to her. There were still so many tears left in her. At least she was not having a panic-attack on his back. "They'd turn on the neural rod because apparently it feels better if I tighten up."

_Please stop talking about this,_ Atton thought with a sickening pain in his chest. It was ten times worse for him than it was for anyone else because everything she said was familiar to him. _Force, what a twist of fate._ He use to enjoy doing what those Sith did to her. Despite his turmoil, though, Atton kept quiet, and Yiding went on, oblivious, or perhaps preoccupied.

"It's not fair that something that hurts women still manages to pleasure men," She continued, "And then women get to bear their children while they run off hurting other women. Evolution totally fails on this one."

"It wasn't supposed to work like that," Mira said to her. "It—it's like your Force, I would say. Done right and it's beautiful. Done poorly and you get a bunch of corpse-heads."

"Does it work like that for zabraks?" Yiding asked, ignoring the huntress, "Is it better for men than for women for your species too?"

Bao-Dur looked sadly at her. "What you went through was torture, General," He reminded her in his quiet way.

"Well," Yiding sniffed, "I once helped this girl when I was in exile. She was being attacked in an alley by a bunch of human males. One of them was on her already when I stunned all of them with my blaster." It was the first time she talked about anything to do with her exile. "They weren't Sith, though, so it wasn't torture like that. Was really similar though. Granted, she didn't have to go through all that other stuff." She paused, and Atton was afraid that she was reminiscing about the 'other stuff', but she was actually thinking about the girl. "She was very young. I took her to the hospital and they had to stitch her up. Did Mical have to stitch me up too?"

"What happened to her?" Atton asked softly instead of answering the question.

"She got pregnant," Yiding said in a matter-of-fact tone. "She had parents though. They were nice people. It's easier when you have parents."

A brief awkward silence fell.

"Did they keep the child?" Brianna asked. She would wonder, Atton thought wryly.

"No. She aborted it. She wasn't human and it wouldn't have survived anyway, she got rid of it before it could present more health problems. I left afterwards. Couldn't stay in one place too long, but she was in a bad way. Had lots of support though. I hope she's better now."

Brianna reached out to rub her arm.

"That was the first time I saw sex." Yiding sounded almost perky, as if she had witnessed something exciting. "I'd never seen people have sex before."

"Honey," Mira said again, "That wasn't sex either."

"Oh," Yiding sounded a bit lost then. It was strange. Atton knew she was sheltered, but he did not think she was this ignorant. It did not make sense. "Well it still happens very often."

"Yes, it does."

"And then we get pregnant from it, so we're built to handle it."

Atton was starting to realize what was going on.

"That's…not exactly it, Yiding." Mira sounded like she was figuring it out too.

"There is nothing acceptable about what happened to you, Exile." Trust Kreia to get to the point. "You do not have to justify it, or deny its atrocious nature. You suffered indignities that no one else survived. You will heal and in doing so become all the stronger."

_We should stop talking about this._ "I'm in the mood for some good food tonight. Mira?"

"Atton, you've wandered for a bit yourself. Don't _you _know how to cook?"

"I have low standards when it comes to my own cooking."

"Atton is a real man," Yiding sounded like she was praising him, even when she added, "Men's stomachs are like trash chutes. You can stuff anything in them and they're also bottomless."

"That is such a flattering analogy, babe," Atton drawled, but softened his words with a kiss on her cheek. "So glad you think of us as garbage cans." He tossed a glance at T3, but the droid was focusing on navigating without falling over.

Mandalore chuckled wordlessly behind them.

"Mmm…you're hardy." Then Yiding was doing it again. "I wasn't hardy. I kept getting sick when they fed me stuff. My stomach is too delicate."

"Honey," Mira sighed, "They were poisoning you, Yiding. Hardiness has nothing to do with it."

"Would probably help though." More hot liquid spilled between their faces.

"No," Atton said knowingly, "No it wouldn't. Hey what do you feel like eating? I'm in the mood for something good but Mira would try extra hard if it's something _you _picked."

Mira threw him a dirty look but did not deny it.

"I want cake."

"…You can't have cake as a meal." Was she pulling his leg?

Apparently not. "We use to get this wonderful cake with some of our meals at the enclave. It was my favorite dessert. Maybe the three Jedi masters know the recipe? We should go to Dantooine after we pick up Mical."

"What kind of cake is it?" Mira asked. "Maybe we can find out somewhere."

"I don't know," Yiding sounded morose, "None of us cared to find out. We all thought the chefs would always be there. The Order had been around forever, it seemed, especially back when we were children. We didn't think that there could be anything that would bring it down. Of course, back then we all thought that the Order was right about everything."

Atton snorted.

"Of course, in the end no one was right about anything," Her arms tightened around his neck as she fought to compose herself. "The Revan I knew would never do what he ended up doing. He changed, and not for the better. He always wanted to learn, we all thought that it was a good thing, but he always wanted more and more and more. He was greedy."

Revan's name filled Atton with a particular sick feeling.

"I'm glad he came around." Yiding turned her face to look at Kreia. "Whatever _you _might say—the Order doesn't hold all the truths but that doesn't mean people should flock to its complete opposite. Just because the Jedi weren't right about everything doesn't mean they were wrong about everything too. The blind men and the bantha."

Kreia reached out to touch her head in a rare gesture of affection, but did not say anything. Perhaps the old woman sensed that Yiding was not receptive to any lectures she might have, though it was equally possible that she simply had nothing to say. That would be a first; even when Kreia declared she had no words, she always had an ample supply to follow, until her temper shut it down again.

"Were you good friends with Revan?" Brianna asked.

"Yes and no," Said the Exile, "We weren't close like me and Mical." Atton fought down a wave of jealousy; she had said she thought of Mical as a little brother. Little brother. _Little brother._ "But we understood each other. I knew when he started to fall and he knew I would never make that choice. He knew my talents and I knew his. He was always closer to Malak though. We never had heart-to-hearts or anything like that. When I left he was really angry, threatened to lock me up or cut me down if I dared to go back to the Order, but in the end he let me go saying he wouldn't do me the same favor if I showed my face again. Considering what he's supposedly done to non-Force-users who tried to leave, I guess that made us friends."

That…did. Atton himself had been lucky—he had run when they least expected him to. He knew for a fact that others were not so fortunate.

"I guess it was a good thing that the Order exiled me," Yiding went on, "I didn't even know there was a Jedi Civil War going on, so I never ran into Revan again. Maybe if I did, Revan would have been the one to do…do what S-Sion did."

Atton was feeling very ill at this point. If she had run into Revan before, _Atton_ could have been the one torturing her, breaking her. He was glad she could not see his face in the dingy darkness, her cheek pressed against his, though he could not avoid clenching his jaw.

The inn materialized just in time. It was very run down, but they were not looking for high standards; as long as there were no parasites in the covers, all was good, and the inn was at least good enough for that. "We're going in there. You got the credits, Bao?"

"I have them."

"Lead the way, Mira."

The crew surrounded Atton, Kreia on one side and Visas on the other, Mira and Bao-Dur in front of him and T3M4, and Mandalore and Brianna bringing up the rear. Yiding was more intimidated than she let out, for he felt her shrink against him and allow the hood to cover most of her face. He nuzzled her reassuringly. She could probably walk on her own at this point, but he knew she felt safer on his back, even if technically it made it harder for him to grab at his blaster and defend her.

Mira dealt with the receptionist with Bao-Dur while the rest of them waited.

"Hi Mandalore," Yiding had turned her head around.

"…Exile."

"You look very imposing in that armor."

"…"

"You're not allowed to flirt with others when I'm the one carrying you, Yids," Atton bumped her up.

"'M not flirting. He does look imposing. And my name's not Yids. People only call me that when they're picking on me."

"Oh?" It was hard to imagine anyone picking on her, though Yiding might have been less graceful when she was a child. "What _do _they call you?"

"Ding-ding."

_That's even worse than Yids,_ Atton thought, _Stupid sheltered Jedi brats._ He was not going to call her that. Maybe he should just stick with 'babe'.

Mandalore was thinking the same thing. "Seriously?" The warrior drawled, "Your _friends_ called you that?"

"It's like a bell," Said the Exile, "Créche master said my laugh sounded like them. I don't know. I use to laugh a lot."

Put that way, it was not such a bad nickname. From the point of view of innocent sheltered Jedi brats, anyway. Her laugh did sound like bells. He imagined when she was a child, she probably sounded even brighter. Happier, perhaps. She really did not laugh all that often, even before the Sith captured her. He suddenly wished again that he had known her before. What must she have been like then…

Mira walked back to them. "Expensive," She muttered, "But then, we're sort of use to free room and board on the ship. Come along. I got us two rooms, double beds each."

"…" Mandalore seemed to glare at her through his helmet.

"We're not exactly rich, you know," The huntress pointed out.

* * *

><p>Brianna moved to another location to contact Mical, but she had no luck.<p>

"What if something happened to him?" Yiding asked, worried. She was on her feet, standing stably for now, though Visas was at hand to support her.

Kreia turned in her seat, but said nothing. The old woman was less than enthusiastic about chasing after the disciple, clarifying that all of the Exile's companions were dispensable, but it was one of many things Yiding had a great difficulty in accepting.

"I'll try again in an hour," The handmaiden promised.

Yiding felt dissatisfied. "What planet was he on?" _What planet were we on?_ Every time she asked the crew always deflected the question somehow.

"Did he not pick up? Did it not connect…?" Bao-Dur asked Brianna.

"He didn't pick up," Brianna frowned, "It could be that I tried to call at an inconvenient time."

"That's possible," Said Mira. "Don't worry about it, Yiding. Leave Mical to us. You just focus on getting better."

"It's not exactly requiring a lot of focus," Yiding was getting a bit tired, so she walked slowly to Atton, who was sitting and waiting for her. Visas handed her over to him wordlessly. "If I had the Force this will go faster and I can help find him."

There was a telling pause, but she was not sure what it told. Atton adjusted her on his lap so she was more comfortable.

"Food," He said to Mira, who rolled her eyes.

"I'll bake a cake," Said the huntress, "It's early." She sighed. "Didn't think I'd be doing so much housewife things."

"I can help," Yiding offered, needing to be useful.

Mira gave her a skeptical look. "You're all…tired."

Yiding must have looked as depressed as she felt, because the bounty hunter then amended, "Maybe halfway through? We need to get cake ingredients."

"Sure." Yiding perked up at this. She really needed to feel normal again, as soon as possible. She was getting there, she was sure of it.

"Settle down, leader," Atton kissed her behind her ear, "All is well."

She leaned against him at that. "Hm." It was so nice to be held. She knew she was getting spoiled. Kreia seemed to think so; the old woman's regard was disapproving, but Yiding could not give it up yet. She was not ready. Besides, it was her life. Why did she have to care what Kreia thought? She twisted her head and kissed under Atton's jaw.

The pilot sucked in a startled breath, and Yiding reflected that this was the first time she kissed him, discounting that one time he had kissed her on the lips—she had not really kissed back that time. Was he upset? Did she do it wrong? She felt his lips on her temple and the thought fled.

"You two look adorable," Mira said, smiling at them, "Look at her, all cuddled up."

Brianna was also grinning.

"Don't you think so, Mandalore?" Mira glanced at him. He did not respond.

"Bao, you finished with that flying remote?" The bounty hunter asked, "Let's go shopping on Nar Shaddaa! Make sure your blasters are all charged because shopping on Nar Shaddaa is always an interesting affair." She winked at them, though Yiding was not sure if it was at her or Atton or both. Bao-Dur inserted his blasters in their holsters.

"Off we go," Mira came over to kiss Yiding on the cheek. "We'll be back and we'll bake the cake together. I don't know if it's the same one at the enclave that you have, or if it really even tastes that good, but I'll do my best."

"You're a good cook, Mira, I'm sure it'll be fine," Yiding smiled back, grateful that she had such friends. Now if only they would all get along with each other. "Stay safe."

"Honey, who do you think you're talking to?" Mira smirked, "I've wiped these streets long before you even showed up, girl! Be back soon. Atton, behave."

Atton uttered a scoff.

Then it was just the two of them with Visas, Kreia, T3M4 and Mandalore.

"I miss Mical," Yiding muttered, feeling the blonde youth's absence keenly. She considered breaching Kreia's shields but figured she should ask first. "Can you take the shields off?"

"It is not advisable," Kreia replied neutrally, "You are still in a delicate condition. Soon, Exile," She said this with some sympathy, "The Force is not done with you yet, nor you with it."

"You taught the kid some stuff," Atton pointed out, "Surely he can take care of himself, whatever he's gotten himself into. Brianna's going to try again soon. She's not the type to forget, even if she's out shopping."

She felt rested—she felt rest_less_, so she wiggled off Atton's lap. Visas came to support her again as she exercised across the room. At length she was tired so she lied down on one of the beds, calling Atton over to her. She fell asleep before the hour was up and they could hear back from Brianna.

* * *

><p>It was not long before trouble found them, in particular the group out shopping. Brianna contacted them quietly via comm. link.<p>

_"We're being followed,"_ She informed the group at the inn. Yiding was still sleeping, but Atton had tucked her in and left her side so he could listen to the transmission. _"We're trying to lose them because a fight out here would be too messy, according to Mira. Someone knows we are here."_

Someone always did. Then again, the Ebon Hawk, while not the most unique, was a bit distinctive, especially if there were people watching out for it.

"Sith?" Atton asked quietly. T3M4 beeped softly.

_"Not sure,"_ Brianna replied, _"I don't sense any Force sensitivity."_

"The bounty on her was lifted when we left Nar Shaddaa," Said Kreia, "Whoever these people are will be working for the Sith lords, even if they are not Sith themselves."

"She's going to be hungry," Visas said sympathetically as she looked over at the Exile. "She's become edgy now. Keeping her in the dark is only going to protect her for so long."

"She will face news when she is ready," Said Kreia, "And not before."

"She won't be fooled about the others though," Said Mandalore, "The Jedi Exile is a smart woman. She's let the issue over that blonde kid go because she trusts all of you, but it's not a permanent solution."

"Are you going to need backup?" Atton asked Brianna.

_"Pfft," _Mira's voice drifted through, _"Please. This is Nar Shaddaa. This sort of thing happens all the time. Give us a few, and keep Yiding calm. Poor girl doesn't need to get all scared for nothing."_

The connection closed.

"Mira knows what she's doing, yeah?" Atton said hopefully, "She's practically a local. Bao-Dur's no pushover either, and that Echani schutta trained with the Exile. They can handle themselves." Still, he could not dispel the sick feeling of dread that formed in his stomach.

"What happens to them is not important," Kreia said with finality, "What happens here is. The Exile's security is our top priority."

"What about her health?" Mandalore drawled, "Shall we starve her to death so that she is 'safe'?"

"Do not take that attitude with me, Mandalorian. You know nothing of what is at stake here."

"What's going on?" Yiding mumbled, looking sleepily at them. "What are you all talking about?"

The conversation was over at this point. Atton went to her.

"Hey, had a good sleep?"

"Mmph," She lied back down, "Was wondering where you were."

He felt Kreia's heavy disapproval as he collected her into his arms. "I'm right here, babe."

She was already asleep again.


	10. Chapter 9

When the Sky Falls

Chapter 9

They were hiding things from her.

She tried not to feel crushed, but it was hard and she failed miserably. So many things had gone wrong, so much of her body and mind felt wrong. Her skin was dark and dry, and she kept remembering the other Jedi stating how the Dark Side corruption shows in the form of enhanced aging and decay. _'Like they were sick with a plague,'_ They had said. Maybe the Sith felt sick too. Yiding often did. Her memories felt tainted, interspersed with the stuff of nightmares so that even happy, innocent times turned into sickening torture.

How long had it been since her escape and rescue? It felt simultaneously like forever and an instant. How long will her companions continue to be patient with her? Atton promised he would never abandon her, but despite everything she did know that if she continued on like this, with no hope of improvement, he would get tired of her. She was already tired of herself. She was supposed to lead them, to resolve this galactic crisis, but now they were hiding things from her. Was it because she had been corrupted by the Dark Side? They did not trust her? She felt so filthy, her very body like a disease that no amount of showering could wash away. Meanwhile people were dying, others might be suffering the same fate she had, with no hope of escape or rescue, and she was taking forever to collect her wits together.

She tried. She tried to rationalize what was happening to her, to her mind, but she felt like a completely different person from who she was before, and the person she became was abhorrent and pathetic. She was ugly and mental and weak and defiled and she had no idea how to change it. How long ago was it that she use to be in control, at least of her body and mind, if nothing else? She longed for the days when she was in the créche and her future had been so full of hope and glory. A Jedi did not seek glory, but no one had ever said they must reject it. Glory was a beautiful thing. Hope was a beautiful thing.

"Where the hell are the others? Was there _any _word from Mical? Why aren't you people telling me what you're planning?"

"Nothing is wrong," Atton insisted, and Yiding felt her temper explode.

"Stop lying to me!" She cried out, "This isn't me digging into your secrets or your personal history! I've been to Nar Shaddaa! You were krething here with me! It doesn't take seven hours to buy groceries for dinner! And who were we running from? What planet was Mical stranded on?" She seized herself and pulled her hands up to stifle her sob, wondering if she looked completely ridiculous and out of control. _Force, what have I become? Have I become the monster Sion was trying to make me?_ "You can just tell me if you don't want my input," Her voice cracked into a whimper, "I know you don't have faith in me anymore, but I'm worried, I'm worried and _please_—this is all my fault, if something happened to them it's all my fault and I have to do something—"

Mandalore groaned. "Look, she's asking for some responsibility at this point. I think she knows what she wants."

"No she doesn't," Visas fairly snapped, "She is merely use to carrying everyone's burdens in spite of her own health."

"She's right here, you know," Atton drawled, "And totally listening to everything you're saying, which, by the way, is not exactly making her feel better."

"A good leader," Kreia reminded Yiding, "Knows when to step back and let things unfold. You use to remember what it means to allocate duties."

Yiding sniffled. "It's all my fault," She blinked more tears, "I should have sensed something was wrong in that cave—the Dark Side was thick and I—I didn't want Mical and Atton to get hurt so I went after Master Vash by myself thinking that I could handle it better on my own—I was so _stupid_," She broke into wails as anguish poured from her. Atton's arms tightened around her to the point of physical pain, but it did not ease the pressure in her heart. "I-I was afraid the D-Dark Side would mess with their h-heads—I-I th-thought it wouldn't m-mess with mine because I _f-felt _it before and-and it d-didn't then, b-but it could mess with my senses and I-I d-didn't s-sense any-any of th-them unt-til th-they were pr-practically in front of my face—and it was too l-late. It was too late. I m-might as-as well have h-handed m-myself to the S-Sith on a s-silver p-platter. I-I m-might as w-well j-just dr-draw the l-lights-saber on m-myself and-and s-save th-the S-Sith the tr-trouble."

T3M4 whirred in concern. Kreia moved from her chair and knelt in front of Yiding, who tensed, wondering what the old woman would do with this confession. The crone lifted her hands and gently tilted Yiding's face up, her fingers dry and wrinkled but warm and gentle.

"You were led to a trap," Said Kreia, "One you had to spring, one way or another. It was a battle you were not ready for, but we do not always get to choose our battles, or their timing. The situation was far more complicated than you articulated. I know, because I saw it, and I was unable to warn you because by the time I did, it was too late." Dry thumbs wiped at her tears. "Your judgment was never in question, Exile, but for now, you must realize you are in no shape to take part in what happens to us, or the galaxy. It is not because you failed—it is because for now, you must slow down. For now, you are not a Jedi, nor are you the hope of the galaxy." Yiding's lip quivered at this, but Kreia pressed her forehead against hers, the hood of her robe soft between their skin. "Your precise condition is unprecedented, but we all sense your fighting spirit. You will recover. Trust that, if nothing else."

Kreia was not the most affectionate person, but Yiding always felt comforted whenever the old woman praised her or soothed her, even if intellectually she knew that Kreia had her own agendas she had never revealed. There was always the sense that the woman cared for her, and because Yiding cared for Kreia, she cared very much for that sentiment.

"I feel changed," She whispered, "I'm scared that they did something to me—to my mind, to my body, to my heart. I'm scared I'm going to turn into someone like Sion."

"No," Said Kreia, and Yiding felt Atton's arms squeeze her again, though he said nothing.

"What if I never go back to the way I was?"

"You will never go back," Kreia stated, "But perhaps that is for the best; you were certainly not as perfect as you could have been. The pain will ease, however, as all pains do, and you will grow from this, knowing what the Dark Side is capable of, and you will face it as a greater opponent, as will the rest of us."

Yiding sniffled. "How can I face it if I'm so scared of it?"

Kreia moved away but cupped her face more securely.

"Perhaps you should be afraid," Said the old woman, "The Sith were never easy foe. Perhaps, if you misjudged at all, it was that you underestimated the power they wield. It is no matter, for you have survived, and in this your _compassion,_" She said the word with the derision she always did, "May serve you well, for if you are afraid, then you know the danger they present to the rest of the galaxy. And you will overcome it, for the sake of others, as you always have."

Yiding sniffled again. "I'm still worried about Mira and the others. And Mical."

"Perhaps it is not that we should have more faith in you," Kreia pointed out, "But you should have more faith in _us._"

* * *

><p>Since Yiding was already convinced that something bad had happened, at least they did not have to tip-toe around the subject of Mira, Brianna, and Bao-Dur. Atton hacked his comm. link and tried to figure out how to track Bao-Dur's remote while Yiding helped a little and offered suggestions, though mostly she just watched. The Sith at least did not mess up her intelligence; she was still as good a lock-picker and hacker and engineer as she always was. Provided that her hands did not shake too much.<p>

Mandalore grumbled about going out to find them, especially since all of them were hungry at this point, but the old witch firmly rejected the idea. Atton could not complain; he could probably protect Yiding with Kreia and Visas, but sending Mandalore out would cause them to have to worry about if something happened to _him._

There was still the matter of food though. There were vending machines in the hall, so Mandalore went to get some snacks, at least for the Exile, who was starting to fuss a little. Starvation was one memory Atton wanted to eliminate from Yiding's brain; she was still very skinny, even if she was no longer emaciated, and her pinched expression held a haunted look that indicated some sort of flashback.

Mandalore came back with something sweet for Yiding, showing that the warrior was pretty observant, if nothing else. Yiding looked like a child when she was eating, and finished the candy bar in several quick gulps. She wanted another one but was too shy to ask for it, and Atton did not help her; he did not think this sufficed as real food, and it could hurt her stomach.

She leaned against him when bored but not tired enough to sleep. She needed a lot of tactile reassurance, something she seemed as confused about as everyone else; the old Yiding was never so clingy or needy, but from what she had been raging about, it seemed like she could no longer help giving into her impulses now, and would often seek his contact or request hugs. Atton let her, enjoying the closeness. He had never been so close to anyone before. Certainly, he had been intimate with a fair collection of women, but he had never been _close_ to them, had never stayed till morning, or really touched or allowed touch that had no sexual intention. There was something more vulnerable, somehow, in letting Yiding snuggle against him, embrace him from behind, press her face against his, because there was nothing more to the touches than an offer of comfort and the request of the same in return, so strangely, it was easier to be hurt.

He would be every inch the fool Kreia accused him of being if he thought that Yiding would hurt him somehow, and every time she revealed this deep, profound trust in him, he felt something in him soften all the more. She was so clean and pristine, and her touch was soothing and heartwarming. She was still far too bony, but she was soft, in many ways more woman than all the women Atton had ever met. Holding her made Atton feel…good—like he was a good person, when he was with her. He could be a hero, a protector, a defender, with Yiding near him. It had always been this way, to a point—he had never allowed himself to get close to her before, but with her he was always different, a better man. Back then, however, she had never needed him quite as much as she did now, nor in the same way. Or perhaps she did, in the same way, but not to the extent she did now. If anything good came out of her captivity, it was that their relationship had spontaneously strengthened.

There was, of course, the matter of Kreia, but Atton sensed that the old woman would not do anything as long as Yiding was still so emotionally fragile. The old woman did care about the Exile, and she probably figured that what Atton was doing had more advantages than disadvantages. He was not sure how long this truce would last—Kreia was clearly displeased with how close they were, and he had no doubt that once Yiding recovered enough, she would threaten him to leave her alone so that nothing would weaken her precious Exile.

Atton was not sure what he would do in such a case, but for now, he could not bring himself to care.

"Where did you learn how to do all this?" Yiding asked innocently.

"Here and there," Which was somewhat true, though as an assassin Atton had been purposefully taught half of the tricks he knew. "What about you?"

"Here and there," Yiding echoed, but elaborated because she was the Exile and had nothing to hide, unlike the rest of them. "When I was an initiate, I use to steal parts for projects. Not real stealing, I'd just snatch parts no one else wanted. Everyone thought it was strange because usually boys like these sort of things more than girls, at least among humans. I would go around to all the padawans at the temple and ask for tips."

She must have been adorable as a young girl. "What sort of things did you make?"

"I never really completed a project," Said Yiding, "Not a real one, anyway. I made modifications on things, but I never finished something from scratch. I didn't have the attention-span when I was interested in such things, and then when I did I was no longer interested. It wasn't really encouraged either—I wasn't _dis_couraged from it, exactly, but the Force and its ways were much more important than physical technology. I wanted to make a robot once, a droid like T3." She reached out to pat the droid's head. "I was halfway done when I hit an obstacle. I was six. Didn't have the patience to finish."

He paused to stroke her cheek affectionately. Her skin was a bit dry from malnutrition. She nuzzled his hand. He felt content.

"I want Mical," She murmured, killing his mood instantly. "He'd know if this is normal."

"If what's normal?"

"Me feeling uncomfortable."

Atton put down the tech to focus on her fully. "How are you uncomfortable?" _Is it with me?_

"I don't know," She rubbed her arms, "I feel jittery and tired but I can't seem to rest. I think I hurt but I'm not sure anymore."

Kreia frowned. When they first rescued her, Yiding had wailed that she hurt, apparently everywhere. The old woman approached her and Atton sensed her using the Force to sooth the young woman's body.

"She is stressed," Said the crone, as if no one else in the room had realized that by now.

The door suddenly clicked. Kreia and Visas had their lightsabers in hand instantly, and Mandalore was reaching for his weapon, but the sound was from a card key and the door opened to let in a disheveled Mira.

"Ran into some problems with my old associates," She said apologetically, "Would have commed, but we fell into a pool, so it fizzed out. Also lost our first batch of groceries." She stepped in, allowing Brianna and Bao-Dur, both damp, to enter. They were all carrying bags, so it seemed they went shopping again after falling into water.

Yiding struggled off the bed and wordlessly stumbled to Mira, hugging her desperately.

"Hey baby, we're back," Mira said fondly, unable to return the hug because she was still holding the bags. "Careful, we're a bit wet."

Brianna put hers down so that she could receive Yiding next, and though Bao-Dur was a bit shy about it, he embraced her firmly.

"I got cake ingredients," Said Mira, "But we also bought some instant foods. Were you all simply waiting here all this time? At this ridiculous hour? Good grief, Kreia! Here, Yiding, sit down and let me bring the stuff out for you."

Yiding was so relieved she was crying. "What happened? Are you all unhurt? You're all wet! You should get changed—I'll be alright, you don't have to do it yourself! Go to the refreshers!" And she staggered her way to the suitcases where the spare clothes were folded.

"Ah-ah, no no, Atton, Mandalore, you two sort the food. We'll get our own clothes, girl. Bao, you take the other room's shower and come back here. Brianna, you can go first in this one."

"Are you sure?" Brianna asked.

"I need to hurry and put some of the perishables in the fridge. Go."

T3M4 was also very excited at the return of their three companions, buzzing and whistling and beeping ecstatically as Mira opened the fridge to toss things in. Yiding was smiling widely, grabbing at her face. Atton went over to help unpack the goods. Some of the stuff was hot, and he put them on the table.

"Come here, beautiful," He declared, "Let's put some food in you." Brianna withdrew some spare robes and disappeared into the shower.

"Is that all there is?" Yiding asked in concern, "I don't think that's enough to feed everyone."

That was their Exile: always thinking of others.

"I'm cooking," Said Mira, "That's just for you. We didn't carry enough credits on us to buy more."

"I'll cook!" Yiding exclaimed, "You were out and got attacked, you must be tired," Despite the fact that she had earlier admitted to feeling tired herself.

Mira was exhausted, or else she probably would not have allowed Yiding to make her way to the counter. The rooms were each furnished with a tiny stove and workbench, and there was only room for one person to work at a time. The Exile turned over the groceries and uttered a sigh, as if struggling to stay focused.

"Exile," Mandalore called, "Perhaps you should eat first."

It was not possible for Yiding to protest the wisdom of this suggestion.

"Come here," Atton ordered, knocking his knuckles on the little table, "It's eat time."

Yiding was grinning as she sat down. "Feel much better now," She declared, as she picked up her utensils.


End file.
